


Past Imperfect

by silver_sun



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_sun/pseuds/silver_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up injured and with no memory of the past few days is only the start of Jack's problems as part of his forgotten past comes back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title** : Past Imperfect. (1/7)

 **Pairing/Characters:** Jack/Ianto, team.

 **Rating** : M  
 **Warnings** :Torture/interrogation scene. (Not particularly graphic, no sexual element.)  
 **Summary** : Waking up injured and with no memory of the past few days is only the start of Jack's problems as part of his forgotten past comes back to haunt him.  
 **A/N:** Set during in series two after Meat but before Adam.

* * *

There's something very unsettling about waking up naked on the floor of a bathroom with no memory of how you got there, Jack decides as he struggles to sit upright.

Head pounding unmercifully, Jack leans back against the grimy tiled wall next to an antiquated sink and tries to recall just how he got wherever here is. Nothing is forthcoming. He remembers leaving the Hub early in the morning, before everybody got in for the day, to get something to eat. He hadn't wanted to deal with a conference call between him, a General from UNIT and somebody from USA homeland security, on an empty stomach.

Shivering, the dingy bathroom is unmercifully cold, Jack tries to push down the feeling of fear that is starting to coil in his stomach. Fear solves nothing; that had been one of the first lessons that he'd been taught back at the Time Agency. Remaining calm and trying to remember events leading up to the period of memory loss was the best solution.

Closing his eyes, Jack tries to concentrate, the fear and the various aches and pains his body is beginning to tell his are present drifting back temporarily as he blocks them out.

He remembers walking across Roald Dahl Plas, the rain fast soaking into his shirt as he'd not fastened his coat as he'd headed for a nearby cafe, one of the few open that early in the morning. There's no memory of arriving though, everything after leaving the Plas and walking onto Pierhead Road is a complete blank.

More unnerved than he is willing to admit, Jack opens his eyes and tries to work out how much time he lost. There's nothing to work with though, and Jack knows it could just as easily be days, weeks or even years that he's missing, and somehow that makes it seem even worse.

Standing up everything seems to dim, grey fog clouding the edges of Jack's vision, until the dull ache in his right knee flares into white-hot pain cuts through it. Gripping the edge of the sink for support, eyes watering and gasping of breath, Jack rests all his weight on his good leg and waits for the worst of the pain to pass.

The mirror above the sink is cracked and grimy, but it is enough so that Jack can see the bruises on his face and the partially healed cut on his lip. There are other bruises, some on his stomach that look like a boot prints, others on his across his arms that suggest batons or maybe metal bars, while his knee seems to just be one large bruise; mottled purple and swollen, it barely resembles a knee anymore.

Jack knows with the sick certainty of past experience that his injuries are the result of a fairly severe beating; one that had been enough to seriously injure him, although not to kill him. Whether that had been intentional on the part of those who had taken him or if he'd given them what ever they wanted before they got around to killing him, Jack doesn't know.

The sudden thought that perhaps it isn't over, that he's just been dumped here in the bathroom while his captor or captors decide what to do to him next, hits Jack hard. He feels disorientated and dizzy, the floor seems to shift and shake under his feet. Shock, concussion or bleeding out slowly from internal injuries he's not sure, all Jack knows is that he's in no state to fight back effectively or to escape, but having to helplessly endure another beating makes him feel sick.

Shaking from the cold and what he suspects could be delayed shock, Jack listens at the bathroom door for what seems like an age before deciding that there's nobody there.

Cautiously Jack opens the door. It opens out onto a small landing with two doors, to what are probably bedrooms, and a flight of stairs.

Limping badly and leaning against the walls for support, Jack checks the two upstairs rooms. Finding them devoid of everything, except the smell of decaying wood and mould, he makes his way carefully to the stairs. Holding on tightly to the banister, his knee threatening to give way with each step, Jack slowly makes his way downstairs.

The downstairs is equally cold and empty, and as lacking in clues at to where it is or how Jack might have got there, as the upstairs. The house, probably once a farm worker's cottage, doesn't look like it has been inhabited for years. Derelict and with the much of the glass broken in the downstairs windows, the freezing wind and rain, combined with the bare slate floors, leave Jack shaking so badly from the cold that it's hard for him to stay on his feet.

Normally, Jack doesn't have a problem with being naked; a lot of his favourite things happen when he's naked, but right now clothes, especially his greatcoat, would be very welcome indeed. The absence of his vortex manipulator only seems to heighten the sense of nakedness. It's the first time that he's been without it since Martha had handed it back to him onboard the Valiant soon after the Master's death.

It's not something that Jack wants to be thinking about, there are still a lot of memories there that he's not worked through yet, painful, hurtful memories that until now he's been able to keep out.

The only thing that Jack can find to wear is an old curtain. Faded and spotted with mildew, Jack tears a strip from the bottom of it to bind his knee, before wrapping the remainder of around himself. It does little to ward off the cold, and Jack's sure that didn't feel so damn wretched he'd find the idea of wearing a floral curtain as a toga funny.

Outside it's raining. Freezing and torrential it obscures the view down into the valley, leaving Jack no clues as to which way would be best to find help.

Because, as much as Jack hates to admit it, he knows he's going to need help if he's to get back to Cardiff and find out what's going on. Immortality, as handy as it has proved over the years, doesn't protect him from pain or fear or loss, all it means is that at the end of it, however bad it gets, he'll always be the one left standing.

Despite choosing the easiest route down into the valley walking still hurts, although Jack is sure that the cold is helping to numb a lot of the pain. He's almost glad of the pain though, as it doesn't allow him to think about anything else too closely, such as why he's not healed yet.

Jack knows that his healing has been erratic ever since his time on board the Valiant, well more erratic; it hadn't exactly been totally predictable before. Through the years Jack has learnt that his state of mind when he dies has a lot to do with the speed at which he revives. If there's immediate danger to those that he cares about coming back always seems faster, even if it means that sometimes when he revives he's less than completely healed.

There had been too many deaths too close together during that nightmare year, both at the hands of the Master and by those who'd served him out of fear that if they didn't they would be the ones bleeding and dying instead. Since then it has been like his body has got use to being injured, small cuts and bruises no longer triggering whatever it is that keeps bringing him back. It makes Jack wonder if perhaps the Doctor has got it wrong, that he's not a fixed a point in time, just one that moves in fits and starts, like a fault line through a planet's crust.

Perhaps the Master had killed some of the wrongness out of him. Maybe that's why the Doctor had offered to take him with him, and could look at him now.

Jack stops, and leans against the dry stone wall that runs a long the edge of the farm track he's walking down. He's not sure where that last thought had come from, it's certainly not one he wants to have or believe.

Coming back from dying seems to be slower now as well, The only explanation that Jack has been able to come up with is that it's a defence mechanism, just a simple physical reaction to limit the amount of times that he can die in a single day. After all he couldn't die again if he was still dead.

Walking again, determined not to think about any of it until he's back in the Hub, Jack not sure how much further he's gone when he realises that he's stopped shivering. He knows that it not a good sign, but there isn't anything that he can do about it apart from try to keep moving.

It's hard though, the desire to curl up into ball until he has stopped being cold and in pain is so strong, Jack knows that isn't an option though, not if he wants to get back to a hot drink, an even hotter shower, some warm clothes and his team.

The dizziness and disorientation that have been present since he woke seems to get worse as a he walks, until every step seems to require his full concentration not to slip and fall. It's a level of concentration that, as time passes, Jack finds impossible to maintain, and each time he falls it's harder to get up.

The sight of an old red phone box by the side of the road brings tears to his eyes that have nothing to do with the pain and biting cold that seem to cut right through him.

Stumbling inside, Jack leans against the door, glad to be out of the wind and rain.

Looking at the phone which has been converted to card use only, Jack is grateful that back in the 1980's the then head of Torchwood three had got a free phone number for Torchwood, just in case any of the staff need to call in, but had no change. With fingers numb from the cold he dials the only Torchwood number he can remember: the tourist office.

The relief is short lived as it continues to ring until it switches over to an answer phone. "This is the Cardiff Bay Tourist Information service. There is currently nobody available to…"

"Come on, come on, pick up," Jack mutters under his breath, not wanting to even consider that there's nobody there to hear him, or that whoever had taken him has got to his team as well.

Abruptly the recorded message cuts out. "Jack?"

The sound of Ianto's voice has never been so welcome, and Jack rests his head against the wall of the phone box, relieved that whatever had taken him hasn't taken all his team.

"Jack, is that you?"

"Yeah." Jack's throat feels rough and tight, and he's aware that he's started shivering again. For reasons that temporarily escape him Jack's knows that it's a good sign, but it still makes him feel wretched and sick.

"Where are you? Where have you been?"

"I don't know." Wave of dizziness hits him, and Jack closes his eyes, waiting for everything to stop spinning and get back into focus. "How long have I been gone?"

"Nearly a week. I thought, I mean we all thought…" Ianto trails off, sounding embarrassed and ashamed.

That I'd run off with the Doctor again, Jack thinks bitterly. Did that mean that they hadn't even bothered looking for him? Jack knows that he's been irritable and distant with them the past couple of weeks since the incident with the space whale, and he wonders now if they've misinterpreted it him being sorry that he ever came back.

"I'm sorry. Are you all right?"

Jack thinks about lying, but knows that there's really no point, Ianto will see the state he's in soon enough. "I've had better days."

Ianto is quiet for a moment, and Jack can picture the worried frown that Ianto gets when he's concerned about somebody or something. Eventually Ianto asks, "Are you coming back?"

"Soon as you come get me."

"Where are you?"

"Don't know." Jack looks at the information in the phone box, the words drift in and out of focus, but he can make out that it's in both English and Welsh. He closes his eyes again. "Still in Wales. Just trace the number."

"On it." Ianto goes quiet for a moment, and Jack can hear the sound of typing, before Ianto says, "You're near Llanwrtyd Wells. It'll take about an hour and a half to get there, if I leave now. Or do you want me to wait until I can call Gwen and Tosh in?"

Jack shakes his head. An hour and a half is far longer than he'd hoped it would be, but there is nothing that he can do except wait.

"Jack? Are you still there?"

"Yeah." It takes Jack a moment to realise that Ianto wouldn't have been able to see him shake his head. "Just come and get me, and bring me some clothes."

"Clothes?" Ianto sounds somewhere between amused and worried. "You've lost your clothes?"

"Naturism and Wales really don't go together, do they?" Jack tries to make light of it, not wanting to worry Ianto any further than he already is.

"Not at this time of year, no." Ianto laughs, it sounds forced, more worried now than before.

"Is Owen there?" Jack asks, as he realises that Ianto had only mentioned calling Gwen and Tosh in.

"Yes. Why?"

"Bring him with you, there's a couple of things I'd like him to check out." As much as Jack doesn't like the idea of being this hurt and weak in front of any of his team, and would prefer to keep it just between him and Ianto, he also knows that should he pass out or worse die of his injuries or the cold he doesn't want Ianto to have to struggle to get his body into the SUV on his own or to have to a long drive back to Cardiff with just a corpse for company.

Ianto, Jack knows, wouldn't complain, and would probably tell him, if asked, that it doesn't bother him. Jack knows that it does though. Before Ianto it had been a long time since anybody actually put his feelings first, or even acted like he still has any, and somehow the fact that he does this to protect him touches Jack more than he can say.

"We'll be a quick as we can," Ianto says reassuringly. "Jack, I…" he pauses. "Are sure you're alright?"

"You know me," Jack says, trying to sound better than he feels. "I'm always all right."

"I do, don't I?" Ianto doesn't sound happy with Jack's answer or even convinced, but doesn't push it, saying, "I'll see you soon."

Call ended, Jack closes his eyes, and leaning all his weight onto his good leg, he waits for them to arrive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Past Imperfect. (2/6)

**Title:** Past Imperfect. (2/7)  
 **Pairing/Characters:** Jack/Ianto, team.  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Warnings:** Torture/interrogation scene in later part. (No sexual elements to torture.)  
 **Summary:** Waking up injured and with no memory of the past few days is only the start of Jack's problems as part of his forgotten past comes back to haunt him.  
 **A/N:** Set in series two after Meat but before Adam.

 

The rain has stopped and the daylight is starting to fade when Jack hears the familiar rumble of the SUV’s high-powered engine. The wait has seemed almost endless, especially without a way to tell how much time has actually passed.

Cold and stiff, Jack stumbles out of the phone box as the SUV pulls up. Limping a few steps towards it, Jack has covered less than a quarter of the distance before his knee gives out and he lays sprawled on the muddy path.

Jack is still trying to get back on his feet as Owen and Ianto get out and hurry over to him.

Kneeling beside Jack, Ianto doesn’t seem to notice or care about the mud that’s soaking into his suit as he takes off his jacket to wrap it around Jack’s shoulders.  
“Jack? ”

“Hey.” Jack leans against Ianto, the warmth of Ianto’s hand where it rests against the side of his face feels amazing, a source of comfort in the cold.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Owen asks, crouching down beside Jack, hands and eyes checking Jack for injuries.

“Charmer,” Jack manages through gritted teeth as Owen presses lightly against his swollen knee. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Owen sounds worried. “What do you mean you don’t know? You must remember something.”

“Not a thing.”

“It’s all right.” Ianto continues to hold Jack close, trying to keep him warm. “All that matters is that you’re back, you’re safe.”

“Okay, enough of the mushy stuff.” Owen stands up and walks over to the SUV before looking back at Ianto and saying, “Get him over here and I’ll get a couple of tests done, then we can all go home before we freeze.”

Getting up is painful and dizzying, and Jack stumbles against Ianto as he helps him over to the SUV, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

Ianto holds onto Jack a little tighter. “Only a few more steps.”

Jack nods, talking and walking at the same time temporarily escaping him.

Owen has already dropped the tailgate of the SUV and got out the foil blanket from amongst the emergency supplies kept in the boot by the time Ianto helps Jack sit down.

“I’ll run some scans, see if there’s any Rift activity in the area,” Ianto says, a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “We’ll find out what happened.”

Nodding again, Jack holds the blanket tightly about himself, as Ianto lets go and leaves to get in the front of the SUV.

Even with the Ianto’s suit jacket and foil blanket wrapped around him Jack continues to shiver while Owen carries out a quick check of his injuries.

Finishing shining light in Jack’s eyes, Owen frowns. “Good news is you don’t seem to have a concussion. Bad news is you were probably drugged, probably some kind of sedative or tranquilliser.”

“Oh.” Jack blinks, Owen blurring in and out of focus, the light having left spots dancing in front of his eyes.

“Other than that a lot of bruising, and your knee is completely fucked,” Owen continues as he gets a syringe out of his medical kit. “I’ll get some scans done when we get back, tell you the actual damage.”

“That going to help?”

“Nope, sooner I get a blood sample though the better chance I’ve got of finding out what they gave you.”

Jack nods, not even feeling the needle slide into his arm, the cold still effectively numbing everything but his leg.

 

* * *

 

The drive back to Cardiff hurts. Lying down across the back seats wrapped in a blanket, the SUV seems stiflingly hot after the chill of the Welsh countryside, and each pothole or rut in the road jars his knee until Jack has to bite down on his lip to keep from crying out. Despite this Jack is almost grateful for the discomfort as it distracts him from the fact that the scans for alien power signatures and Rift energy that Ianto had carried out had picked up nothing at all.

Eventually though they arrive back at the Hub, and supported between Ianto and Owen, Jack makes his way slowly down to the autopsy bay.

Whatever it is that he’d been drugged with Jack knows that it’s starting to wear off as he feels tired rather than disorientated as he sits on the table.

“Go get him a warm drink, nothing with caffeine though, not until I know what the bastards who did this gave him,” Owen says to Ianto, without looking round from where he’s opened one of the cupboards.

“Shall I get some food?” Ianto asks, hesitating on the steps back up to the main part of the Hub.

Although Jack doesn’t know how long it’s been since he last ate food still seems unappealing, and he shakes his head.

“No, it's Friday night, it'll take bloody ages. Anyway soon as I'm done here I'm going home,” Owen says still looking in the cupboard. He waits a moment before adding, “I'll have a coffee though.”

“All right,” Ianto says, sounding reluctant to leave. Stopping at the top of the steps he looks back at Jack. “I won't be long.”

Once Ianto has gone Jack says, “You were trying to get rid of him.”

“I was,” Owen says as he gets out a scanner, and closes the cupboard. “He doesn't need to see this.”

“It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.” Jack closes his eyes, wondering if the lingering dizziness is making his miss something obvious.

“We've all seen it all before.” Owen walks over to Jack. “Remember that thing with the corrosive slime that only seemed to affect clothing? Because I'm not going to forget.”

“So why?”

“You really want him to associate the countryside with beaten to a pulp more than he already does?”

“Oh.” As awful as it had been at the time Jack hasn’t thought about Brynblaidd and its twisted inhabitants in months, more resent horrors pushing it from his mind.

“Yeah, oh,” Owen says, switching on the scanner. Looking at Jack’s concerned expression he adds, “Look, I’m guessing you didn’t choose to get the crap beat out of you and get dumped in the middle of nowhere.”

Jack nods, as despite the fact that he hasn’t yet been able to remember anything about what has happened to him, he knows that it wouldn’t have been by choice.

“Looks like there was probably was some internal bleeding, but you’ve already healed that up, its left a lot of bruising though.” Owen runs the scanner across Jack’s chest and down over his stomach. “Couple of partially healed cracked ribs. Given how much they’ve healed already they’ll be fixed by morning.”

After running the scanner over Jacks knee, Owen picks up an aerosol can of anaesthetic spray.

“You know,” Owen says conversationally as he applies the spray to Jack’s knee, then unrolls a bandage. “If you were normal you’d be looking at surgery, a few months physio and probably a lifetime with a limp. As it is in a day or so it’ll be like it never happened.”

“I’m lucky like that,” Jack manages before biting back a gasp of pain as Owen starts to wrap the bandage tightly around it.

Owen has just finished when Ianto returns carrying a tray with their mugs on it, and a change of clothes for Jack over his arm.

“About time,” Owen says picking up his coffee.

Jack looks at his drink as Ianto hands it to him. Sniffing it he asks, “What's this?”

“Warm fruit squash. It was either that or green tea,” Ianto says apologetically, his fingers lingering on Jack's. “I'll make it up to you.”

Letting Ianto help Jack get dressed, Owen finishes his coffee then sets the analysis blood samples he'd taken running. That done he gets a packet of painkillers out of one of the cupboards Owen hands them to Ianto, saying, “Keep him warm. Give him two of these if he’s in pain. Don't let him have more than two every four hours, and no caffeine until tomorrow morning.”

“No caffeine at all?” Ianto asks, looking doubtful. “Jack’s not going to like that.”

“He’s borderline hypothermic, and has been drugged with who knows what. You really want to find out what giving him with a stimulant will do? Because it won’t be nice.”

“You’re sure?” Ianto still sounds doubtful.

“No, I spent six years at medical school for the hell of it.”

Jack lets them bicker for a moment longer before saying irritably, “Still here, and still in charge.” Not liking the fact that both Owen and Ianto are talking about him rather than to him.

“Still injured, still drugged, and still my patient,” Owen says, looking at Jack, who's still shivering slightly as he sits on the edge of the table. “Go get some sleep, maybe you'll be able to remember something in the morning.”

“He's right, Jack. You should try to get some rest.”

“Not going to win this argument, am I?” Jack asks. He knows that Ianto and Owen are only trying to help him, and he is grateful, he just hates being in a situation where he needs help.

Ianto shakes his head. “No. I don't think you should stay here either. There's no way you can get down to your bed, well not without falling down there.” Helpping Jack off the table, he adds, “And none of that 'I don't sleep' we both know that's not true.”

“Sofa?” Jack asks, leaning against Ianto. He's fallen asleep there a couple of times after he's gone without sleep for a few days, but it wasn't comfortable.

Putting his arm around Jack, Ianto says,“I was hoping my bed would be a better alternative.”

“I like how you think.”

“And that's my cue to leave.” Owen heads towards the steps up to the main part of the Hub. “I'll let Gwen and Tosh know you're back, tell them you'll talk to them in the morning. I should have the test results by then.”

“'Night, Owen,” Ianto says, before adding gratefully, “And thank you.”

Once Owen has gone, Ianto puts his other arm around Jack, drawing him into a hug. Leaning into the embrace, Jack closes his eyes, letting Ianto hold him close, knowing that for the moment there is no need for words.

 

* * *

 

"Come on," Ianto says helping Jack limp wearily through his flat. "Let’s get you warmed up."

"Thought you'd never ask," Jack says, the warmth and closeness of sex sounding like a fantastic idea. Although given how cold and shrivelled everything feels Jack’s not sure that it would be anything other than disappointing experience for both of them.

Ianto shakes his head, giving Jack an affectionate smile, "Maybe later, right now shower."

Jack lets Ianto undress him, leaning against him while he does. It's nice just occasionally to be the one that's being taken care of. It had puzzled Jack at first why Ianto was so good at it, how he knew when to press an issue and when not to. It had only been the realisation that Ianto been the sole carer for Lisa from the time of the attack on Canary Wharf until the time Lisa had gone on her rampage through the Hub, that had made him actually consider what that had meant.

Looking after somebody who’s completely dependent on you for everything is, Jack thinks, a terrifying responsibility, especially when love them. He's not sure he'd have been able to manage it, not alone and not for so long without any help. Sometimes Ianto amazes him. The fact that Ianto thinks what he does is nothing special just amazes him even more.

Jack’s mind is still wandering as Ianto takes off his clothes as well, and turns on the shower.

“Still with me?”

“Yeah.” Tiredness is starting to take over now that the pain is receding, and Jack leans against Ianto as he stands.

"In you get." Ianto puts an arm around Jack's waist and supports him in the shower preventing him from slipping and falling on the wet, tiled floor.

The water seems scalding hot, and Jack gasps, trying to pull away from Ianto and get out the stream of water that feels like it's burning him.

Shivering slightly, Ianto holds him firm under the spray, saying, "It’s barely warm. I'm sorry, Jack, but we need to do this. You’re filthy and this will help warm you up better than anything else."

Forcing himself to stay still, Jack leans against Ianto, letting the water gradually warm him. “Sex would have been more fun.”

Ianto just smiles, and slowly increases the water temperature.

As Jack gets warmer, and the water temperature more bearable, he reaches for the shampoo, wanting to get rid of days of accumulated grime; the dried blood and stale sweat far too reminiscent of his time imprisoned on board the Valiant.

“Let me.” Ianto takes the shampoo from him.

It’s comforting, Ianto’s hands warm and strong massaging shampoo into his hair, washing the grime from his body, and Jack feels himself starting to relax.

Once the shower finished, and finally feeling warm, Jack lets Ianto help him to the bedroom.

“I am sorry, you know that, don't you?” Ianto says as he sits down on the bed next to Jack. “When we arrived at the Hub and you weren't there we thought you'd just gone out. After an hour or so we started looking.”

“Did you find anything?” Jack asks, then yawns, his body demanding that he rest.

“That you'd finished your paperwork, a couple of your shirts were missing, your coat was gone.” Ianto pulls back the duvet to let Jack get into bed. “We've all seen lately that you're not exactly happy to be back.”

“That's not true,” Jack says, pulling the duvet around him. He'd finished the paperwork because he hadn't been able to sleep, the shirts had been ruined on two separate nights when he'd gone after weevils on his own, and he'd been wearing his coat.

“If you say so.” Ianto gets into bed beside Jack, then switches off the bedside light.

“I do say so.” Jack moves so that his back pressed against Ianto's chest, glad of the warmth. “I won't leave like that, not if I have a choice.”

“I'm sorry for thinking that you would.” Resting his chin against Jack's shoulder, Ianto reaches a hand forward, fingers curling around Jack's wrist where the vortex manipulator used to be. “We'll get it back, and your coat.”

Yawning again, Jack closes his eyes, too tired to question how, with no information to work with they are going to do it.

 

* * *

 

Jack wakes with a start, heart pounding, fear coursing through him. The room is dark and quiet, Ianto is curled against his back, warm and asleep, an arm draped across Jack’s chest.

Glad that whatever nightmare it was that had woken him hasn’t disturbed Ianto, Jack lies still in Ianto’s arms, breathing slowly and deeply as he tries to get the fear he no longer remembers the cause of to subside.

His knee still throbs dully, caught in the time between the painkillers wearing off and it being fully healed. It’s bearable though, and he knows that the injuries will heal and in a couple of days it’ll be like it never happened, physically at least.

Mentally, Jack thinks it’ll take longer. This is the first time since leaving the Time Agency that he’s got a substantial amount of time unaccounted for. Sure there have been evenings that were only vague memories, nights soon after he’d found out about his immortality when he’d drunk so much that by rights he should have been dead of alcohol poisoning, or times when he’s been concussed or dead. But those periods of hazy or missing memories were explainable by-products of known events; they’d been nothing like this.

Ianto mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, and holds Jack a little tighter.

Settling back into Ianto's arms, Jack is glad he let Ianto persuade him to come home with him, knowing that this is preferable to the alternative; a cold and sleepless night in the Hub, spent trying to work out who took him and how he could have been so careless as to let it happen. He can't think of it as anything else but carelessness; it had been weeks after he'd got back off the Valiant before he'd stopped wearing the Webley around the Hub.

Closing his eyes, Jack eventually falls asleep again, Ianto still holding him tight.


	3. Past Imperfect Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Past Imperfect. (3/6)

Title: Past Imperfect. (3/6)

Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto, team.

Rating: M

Warnings: Torture/interrogation scene in later part. (Not particularly graphic, no sexual element.)

Summary: Waking up injured and with no memory of the past few days is only the start of Jack's problems as part of his forgotten past comes back to haunt him.

A/N: Set during in series two after Meat but before Adam.

* * *

"All right," Gwen says, leaning forwards toward Jack from where she's sitting at the boardroom table. "Let's treat this like a missing persons case. What do we know?"

"That I'm not missing." It's harsher than Jack had intended, but ever since waking up he's felt on edge, the frustration that he feels with himself for not being able to remember starting to spill over into anger.

"But you were," Gwen says firmly, but kindly, giving him a reassuring smile. "You said it yourself you can't remember what happened, maybe if we can reconstruct where you went and what you did up until the time you disappeared it might jog your memory."

"Gwen's right, it can't hurt to try," Ianto says encouragingly.

"I could get the CCTV footage for the morning you disappeared," Tosh suggests.

"Alright," Jack says, knowing that he has to find them something to do to take their minds off the fact that they hadn't looked for him sooner. Although he's accepted their apologies for assuming that he'd left them again, it still hurts that they don't know him better than that, and that despite everything that they've gone through together that they still don't trust him.

A few minutes later Tosh has hooked up the CCTV feed to one of the monitors in the boardroom.

It's strange, Jack thinks, watching the footage of himself walking across the Plas, coat flapping in the breeze. Strange and more than a little disconcerting as he knows that in a matter of minutes something is going to happen to him; something that will leave him bloody and bruised, and with a weeks worth of missing memories.

"Looking good." Jack forces a smile, not wanting any of his team to realise how apprehensive he's feeling about what must come next.

"Very dashing," Ianto says wryly, moving closer to Jack, until their shoulders are almost touching.

It's a gesture of silent support that Jack has come to appreciate, especially since his return to Torchwood.

"There's a bit of a black spot in the CCTV coverage at the edge of the Plas," Tosh explains as she switches the feed to a different camera, this time to one on Pierhead Road.

Tosh scrolls through the footage until Jack comes into view. Walking fast through the heavy rain, Jack has almost reached the café when he stops and turns round quickly, hurrying over to an alleyway at the side of a nearby shop.

Watching, Jack feels the breath catch in his throat as the realisation that he's about to witness his own abduction. On screen he has barely reached the entrance to the alley when he suddenly falls to the ground. There's nothing to suggest why, one moment he's rushing forward, the next he's lying motionless on pavement, rain soaking through his clothes.

Ianto's hand tightens on Jack's shoulder as the footage keeps rolling, showing two men in black jumpsuit style uniforms, their faces partially obscured by visored helmets, step out of the alley. One prods Jack's still form with his boot.

"Special ops?" Gwen asks motioning to Tosh to pause the footage.

Jack shakes his head. There is something familiar about the men's uniforms, yet what it is remains stubbornly beyond recall.

"Aliens, then?" Gwen leans closer to the screen, before asking, "Can you zoom in?"

"Of course." Tosh taps a few keys, and the image of the two men, Jack held limp and possibly lifeless between them filling the screen. It's grainy, the image made up of oversized pixels. "I can try to get it a little clearer, but the quality of the CCTV on Pierhead Road is appalling," Tosh says apologetically. "I don't know if I'll be able to get anything useful from it."

Jack smiles at her. "You've done great, just play the rest."

Still holding Jack between them, the man on the left touches something on the side of his visor, then nods to his companion. There is a short flicker of static across the screen and then they're are gone.

"Teleporter," Jack says before anybody has a chance to ask. "I think we can rule out special ops, well Earth based ones anyway."

"What do we do now?" Gwen asks looking at the paused footage of the now empty alleyway. "They could be anywhere, Jack. They could take any of us."

"Or maybe they already got what they wanted," Jack says standing up, not wanting to have to admit in front of them that he really doesn't have any answers, not this time. He's as lost as they are.

"It's a long shot, but we could check the alleyway for residual energy readings, find out if they were using the Rift like John Hart did," Tosh suggests. "There are a couple of new algorithms that I've been working for separating out trace amounts of Rift energy from background levels. It wouldn't be too difficult to adapt it to look for other anomalous energy readings."

"Looks like we have a plan," Jack says with a false cheerfulness. He knows that it's highly unlikely that they'll find anything, teleporters rarely leave much of an energy signature, and after the best part of a week the chance of picking it up are slim. However, Jack also knows that it'll keep them occupied, hopefully giving him time to remember just who took him and why, and there is always the remote possibility that they will actually find something.

"Gwen, you go with Tosh check out the alley." He turns to Ianto. "I need you to go over the Rift readings for the last week or so, check for anything that came in that we couldn't trace."

Ianto frowns, but says, "I'll get right on it. I'll be in the archives if you need me."

"What about you?" Gwen asks getting up. "Are you coming with us? See if going back to the alley jogs any memories?"

Jack shakes his head. He knows that it might work, but he's not keen on having an audience for it. "I know you and Tosh can handle it. I'm going to check on Owen, see if samples he took have come up with anything."

As soon as Tosh and Gwen have left to pick up the necessary monitoring equipment Jack sits back down; he knows that Owen will bring him the results once they are done.

Sore, his knee still aches slightly, and still no nearer in remembering what had happened to him or why the men's uniforms seemed familiar, Jack is still sat at the boardroom table when Ianto reappears carrying two mugs of coffee.

Sitting down next to Jack, he says, "Is there a reason you sent Gwen and Tosh off to do something that is probably pointless? Or is there something that I've missed?"

"They need to be doing something, it'll help them," Jack says wearily, not wanting to have this conversation.

"And what about you?" Ianto puts Jack's mug down in front of him. "What will help you?"

"Knowing what happened." Jack looks at the coffee. "But this is a start."

"We'll work it out." Sitting on the edge of the table Ianto leans towards Jack, his hand warm where it curls against the back of Jack's neck. "We usually do."

Jack smiles, glad of the distraction that Ianto is offering. "You know what else would help?"

"I've got a good idea," Ianto says, before pressing his lips against Jack's.

The kiss is soft and warm, demanding nothing and offering everything, and Jack feels himself start to relax, letting Ianto soothe his frayed nerves.

Jack runs the smooth silk of Ianto's tie between his fingers, loosening it, his other hand unfastening the buttons on Ianto's waistcoat.

"Haven't you two ever heard of the phrase get a room?"

With a startled gasp Ianto pulls back from the kiss, leaving Jack with a view of Owen leaning against the door frame.

"This is a room, and don't you ever knock?" Ianto sounds irritated and a little self concious as he straightens his tie and gets up off the table.

"Door was open," Owen says, walking over to them. "So you want to know what I found out or not?"

"And here was me thinking you'd come to join us."

"In your dreams." Owen sits down opposite Jack, and puts the report on the table in front of him.

Jack smiles at him. "They're such nice dreams too."

Sat beside Jack, clothes neat again, Ianto tries not to laugh at Owen's expression.

"Very funny." Owen opens the report.

"All right," Jack says, wanting to get the conversation back on track, knowing that if he doesn't Ianto and Owen's relatively good natured snarking at each other might go on for some time. "What did you find out?"

"That somebody gave you an interesting little cocktail," Owen says, running his finger down the list of drugs that the tests had picked up. "Stimulants, sedatives and a couple of psychoactives. Whoever dosed you up knew what they were doing."

Jack frowns, not liking the sound of it. "What makes you say that?"

"A mix like that's a bloody good combination if you're trying to control somebody or get information out of them," Owen says with grudging respect for whoever is behind it's abilities. "Keep someone on edge, disorientated, not even able to control when they are awake or asleep, eventually they'll crack tell whoever is giving them the stuff whatever they want to know."

"I see," Jack says, keeping his voice calm and steady, despite the fact that he feels neither. "Any reason why I don't remember any of this?"

"Given the amount of it still in your blood when we picked you up you'd have been out of your head on it most of the time." Owen pauses for a moment then adds in a tone that could be considered sympathetic. "Anyway, with the beating they gave you you're lucky you don't remember."

Kidnapped, drugged and beaten; Jack's not sure luck ever came into it.

Finishing his coffee, Ianto says, "I'll find out if there have been any break-ins at local pharmacies or hospital dispensaries."

"Don't bother," Owen says, pushing the report across the table to Jack. "They won't have any of them. One of the drugs, a psychoactive, is almost identical to one that we've got in the database as coming from the 24th century. Whoever this is they aren't from now and they came prepared."

Since seeing the CCTV footage Jack has been expecting to hear an answer like this, it doesn't make it any less disappointing though. The fact that unless Tosh and Gwen find something in the alley then he's going to have to wait and hope for whoever took him to make another move, something that will alert him to their presence, is frustrating.

The silence created by the fact that none of them want to admit that this maybe all they ever find out is broken by the hiss-clunk of the cog door opening as Tosh and Gwen return.

Getting up, Jack goes over to the glass wall of the boardroom and looks down at them.

Seeing Jack, Gwen waves, indicating where Tosh has gone over to her workstation and is starting to upload the readings that they've taken. Then, smiling, she gives him a thumbs up.

Returning Gwen's smile, Jack hurries down from the boardroom to find out what they've found.

"There's definitely something," Tosh says to Jack, as she puts on her glasses. "I'll need to run it through a couple of programs to filter out the background interference, but I should be able to produce something we can work with."

Half an hour later and with Jack, Owen, Gwen and Ianto clustered around her workstation Tosh finishes processing the readings, and puts them up on screen.

Pointing at some of the energy spikes with her pen, Tosh says, "I think their teleport device is damaged, it seems to be leaking trace amounts of electro-spatial energy."

"Brains and beauty." Jack smiles, and puts a hand on Tosh's shoulder. "It's got to be a crack in the directional shielding unit. They probably don't even know it's there."

"So we can track them?" Gwen asks hopefully.

"It's too degraded," Tosh says, obviously not happy at being the one to have to break the bad news. "If I had a fresher reading, or even a second degraded one, I could narrow down the energy signature, then I'd be able to set up a tracer program."

"And I know just where to find it," Jack says, standing up, glad that it's time for action. "Time for a fieldtrip."

"Where to?" Ianto asks. "There weren't any energy readings where we found you." He thinks for a moment then adds, "Could they have fixed it?"

"No." Jack shakes his head. "It's not a field repair, believe me. If it was broken a week ago it's broken now."

"So why didn't we pick it up?"

"Looking in the wrong place," Jack says, walking over to his office. "We need to go back to the house."

"House? What house?" Owen asks, glancing over at Ianto to see if it means anything to him.

Jack stops, looking back at the mixture of confusion and concern on his team's faces, realising that he hasn't actually told them that he hadn't woken up at the phone box.

"I guess I forgot."

"Are sure you're all ri..." Gwen starts to ask.

"I'm fine," Jack says before she can finish, seeing exactly the same question in all their eyes. His tone, he hopes, will dissuade any further questions, as he adds, "I'll meet you at the SUV in ten minutes. I want to get this done before it gets dark."

Jack can see that they are not exactly happy about it, and he regrets being so short with Gwen. Because while he does appreciate their concern, it's just that he doesn't like the fact that it makes him feel like they're looking at him like he's victim.

Before they can ask him any more questions, Jack goes into his office, and closes the door behind him.

Leaning back against the door, Jack sighs, and rubs a hand across his eyes, wondering why he hadn't told them. If it was just that it had slipped his mind or if its that keeping secrets from them has become such second nature that it no longer occurs to him to tell them anything.

There's no point dwelling on it, Jack decides. Going to his desk, he takes the Webley out of the desk drawer, and fastens it to his belt. The weight of it, and the feel of its old, worn leather case, is reassuring.

Feeling more in control again, Jack gives one last glance at the empty coat stand in the corner of his office, before going down to the garage to wait for them.


	4. Past Imperfect Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Title: Past Imperfect**. (4/6)

**Title: Past Imperfect**. (4/6)

 **Pairing/Characters** : Jack/Ianto, team.

 **Rating:** M  
 **Warnings:** Torture/interrogation scene in later part. (Not particularly graphic, no sexual element.)  
 **Summary** : Waking up injured and with no memory of the past few days is only the start of Jack's problems as part of his forgotten past comes back to haunt him.  
 **A/N** : Set during in series two after Meat but before Adam.

* * *

"So where's this house then?" Owen asks, digging his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Standing next to the phone box where Ianto and Owen had found him the previous day, Jack looks around. The landscape is bleak, and apart from the drystone walls that criss-cross the valley's lower slopes, featureless. It's hard, Jack finds, to recall just how he'd managed to get there from the house, the memories are hazy and disjointed. Jack knows he'd walked downhill, and that some of it had been on a farm track. The memory of the freezing mud and gravel between his toes is surprisingly vivid, and he shivers.

"It's this way," Jack says, before any of them can comment on it, and points further along the road, knowing that it's the only direction that he could have approached the phone box from that would fit with the little that he remembers.

Getting back in to the SUV, Jack waits until the rest of them team have got in, before putting it into gear, and driving away. He knows that all of them must have questions, but after he'd snapped at Gwen about being being fine, none of them have asked him about anything other than directions or technical information on teleportation devices.

It takes only a couple of minutes to reach where the farm track meets the narrow country road. Manoeuvring the SUV between the drystone walls that run either side of the track takes a little longer, but eventually they stop outside the derelict farmhouse.

The house, if possible, looks even more cold and desolate, now that Jack is fully aware of his surroundings. The path up to the cottage, and what would once have been its garden, are overgrown, filled with straggling, frost wilted weeds. There's no sign that the place has been used for years.

Getting out of the SUV, Jack looks around then says, "Gwen, Owen, I want you to check the outside of this place, find out if there's any sign of anybody using this place. Ianto help Tosh unload the scanning equipment."

"What will you do?" Gwen asks, zipping up her coat against the rain that has started to fall.

Drawing his gun, Jack walks over to the door. "I'll find out if anyone is home."

Half an hour later, with the house checked, and gun holstered once more, Jack stands at the bedroom window, looking out at the grey, rain-washed valley, trying to make sense of the situation.

Only the more he about it the less sense it makes that he was left there. If it was the place where he'd been kept why had there been nobody there to make sure he didn't escape? And if it wasn't the place where he'd been kept during that missing week, then why had the people who'd taken him chosen to leave him there? Had they thought he was dead? And this was an attempt to conceal his body? But that makes no sense either, as with teleport techology they could have just tied a rock to him and dropped his body a couple of miles off shore or a different continent. But given the house's location it makes no sense that they'd left him there so that he'd be found. Teleporting him into the centre of Cardiff would have been far better choice.

Jack's not sure how long he's been standing there when he sees a flicker of movement, of somebody in dark clothing behind him, reflected in a fragment of glass still clinging to the corner of the frame.

But I escaped. The memory of stumbling forward and grabbing a teleport device from one of his captors thought flashes through Jack's mind. Closely followed by the thought, I'm not letting them take me again.

There's no time to draw his gun, and Jack turns fast, swinging a fist into the face of his would be attacker. It connects with a satisfying thud, the man staggering back from the force of the blow.

Or it would have been satisfying, were he not looking at Ianto.

"What the hell was that for?" Ianto sounds a little shaken, but otherwise ready to fight back if necessary.

"I didn't know it was you," Jack says, looking as shaken as Ianto sounds, as he notices the cut on Ianto's lip, and blood smeared across his chin where Ianto has touched it.

"I came to tell you that Tosh has finished running the scans," Ianto says, getting a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and holding it to his cut lip. "I suppose I aught to be grateful that it was me."

"I wouldn't have hit Tosh." Jack hopes it sounds convincing, hopes that he can convince himself that that would have been the case, and that it's not just that his nerves are so shot that he'd have hit anybody.

"Really?" Ianto sounds unconvinced.

"No. She wouldn't have snuck up on me."

"Neither did I," Ianto says calmly.

"You move too damn quietly. What if I'd had time to draw my gun?" Fear comes out as anger as the thought that he could be looking at so much more blood, at a body, hits him. "I could have killed you."

"You didn't."

"But I could have." Jack turns away, closing his eyes, but the image of Ianto dead because of him stays burning behind the lids.

"I'm all right." Ianto smiles, then winces, at it tugs on his injured lip. "Just don't expect me to do anything too strenuous with my mouth for a few days."

"What?" Jack asks turning back round.

"This is really getting to you, isn't it?" Ianto puts a hand on Jack's arm.

"That obvious, huh?" Jack keeps his eyes on Ianto's hand, not wanting to see the injury that he's caused.

"Only to those who know you." Ianto gives Jack's arm a squeeze. "Come on, Tosh wants to tell you what she's found."

Jack nods, feeling suddenly exhausted by everything. With Ianto's hand still on his arm, Jack allows himself to be lead from the room.

"Apparently I walk too quietly," Ianto says as Tosh looks at his lip, as they walk in to the bathroom where the scanning equipment is set up. Turning to Jack he says lightly, "Maybe you should get me a collar with a bell on it, let you know when I coming."

"Ianto, I always know that." Jack manages a smile. It feels like an effort, but he knows that he needs to if he's going to follow Ianto lead to defuse what could have been an awkward moment.

"Okay," Tosh says. "I probably didn't want to know that."

"Ianto says you've got something for me." Jack crouches down beside the scanning equipment. "Let me guess, there's two signals, right? One a little stronger than the other."

"How did you know that?" Tosh sounds surprised. She looks at Ianto. "Did you tell him?"

Ianto shakes his head.

"I remembered," Jack says, trying to recall exactly what he'd seen in the brief flash of memory that had come back to him. "I escaped, I took one of their teleporters."

"So the second signal was them coming here to retrieve it?" Tosh asks.

"Yeah," Jack replies a little absently. The realisation that had he been too hurt to leave the house or had taken too long to do so that they would have found him, would have taken him away again, continued to torture him, sits cold and hard in his chest. His mouth feels dry as he says, "We should get back to the Hub."

Picking up one of the energy scanners, Tosh says, "With this data I'll be able to reconfigure the Rift sensor network to pick up electro-spatial energy." Tosh smiles. "As soon as they use that teleporter we'll have them."

The Hub is quiet as Jack removes the mind probe from storage. With no alerts of any kind it had been easy to persuade them to take the evening off, all of them happy to take the rare opportunity while the Rift is quiet. Well almost easy. Ianto had only agreed to leave after Jack had suggested that they meet up later for a meal.

It's not like it's a lie, Jack thinks as he carries the mind probe and its chair over to his office, he's got every intention of meeting Ianto at the restaurant after he's finished with this. The promise of a hot meal and hotter sex is something that Jack rarely turns down.

The mind probe has been a temptation since it washed through the Rift decades ago. It has only been the knowledge that not even the Doctor had been able to access the years that the Time Agency stole from him that has kept Jack from using it. That and the fact that it hurts like hell to use, something that the whole team had been witness to when they'd used it to question Beth Halloran about being a sleeper agent.

This is different though, Jack tells himself, these are resent memories, information lurking only just out of reach of his conscious mind. The benefits far outweigh any temporary discomfort, although he doubts that he'd ever be able to convince his team of that.

But Jack knows he's got to do something. It has been four days since the teleporter detection system went on line and it has so far only gone off once. Even that though hadn't provided him with any answers as it had taken too long to reach the area of waste ground where it had activated, and by the time that they'd finally fought their way through rush hour traffic whoever had been there was long gone.

The mind probe is his best chance as getting this solved, Jack decides. The only real disadvantage to the plan, as he sees, it is the mind probe's less than targeted approach to getting at hidden memories. It's the not knowing what it will reveal, combined with the near certainty that some of it will be disturbing, that had made him decide that he'd have to wait until he was alone before attempting to use it. There are things that he's done, and has had done to him, that he's got no intention of ever sharing with anyone.

Glancing at the clock, Jack smiles, two hours is plenty of time to get everything done and get to the restaurant. It's easy to set up a program to control the probe, allowing it to cycle up through the settings automatically.

Setting a two minute delay for the program to start, Jack sits down and puts the metal cap on his head. Slipping one of his hands through the wrist restraints, he tightens it, knowing that once the pain starts the desire to take the probe off his head is likely to be intense.

Tightening the strap about his other wrist is harder, but Jack knows it doesn't need to be something too secure, after all he doesn't want to be tied to a chair all night.

There's nothing at first, just the cold weight of metal against his skin, then gradually there's the feeling of something pushing at the edge of his mind. It's not exactly painful, not yet anyway, but it takes a lot of concentration not to fight it, not to put up the shields that he'd been taught to use in just such a situation when he was at the Time Agency.

The intensity of the pressure increases faster than Jack finds he's able to comfortably deal with, but there's no backing out now. Gripping the arms of the chair and gritting his teeth, Jack lets the probe into his mind.

There are flashes of memories, random and jumbled together, all are familiar, even if sometimes they are of people and places he's not thought about in years.

As the intensity settings increase so does the rate of the images, until they are blurring one on top of another, all too fast and disjointed to understand. Not that Jack feels he has any ability to understand anything right now, pain seems to fill up every part of his skull, white and blinding.

There's no sense of how far through the probe's cycle he is, thinking hurts too much. The desire to escape is too much and Jack starts to struggle against the restraints, panicking as they refuse to give way, fragmented memories of torture rising up heightening his fear.

Eventually the chair topples over, falling on its side and Jack's head connecting hard with the floor, and with a cry of pain Jack blacks out.

Opening his eyes, Jack tries to focus, the Hub blurring around him. Although hazy it's enough though to tell him that he's no longer in his office or tied to the chair, rather that he's been moved and placed on the sofa, his coat folded up to support his head.

"I could say I told you so, but that would mean you'd have had to actually say something in the first place."

Jack groans and closes his eyes again, uncertain as to whether Ianto finding him is the best or worst of the possibilities of which team member it could have been.

"Jack?" Ianto sits down on the edge of the sofa next to Jack, his hand brushing gently against Jack's forehead. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah." Jack doesn't open his eyes, the residual headache from the mind probe still throbbing dully through his skull.

"What were you thinking?" Ianto asks, sounding angry and scared in equal measure. "Anything could have happened. You know how dangerous that thing can be."

"It didn't."

"That's not the point." Ianto stands up. "You don't know what it could do to you. Just because it can't kill you doesn't mean it's safe.

"I'm all right." Jack opens his eyes, glad that this time the room doesn't seem to spin.

"I'm always all right."

"If you expect me to believe that you're an idiot," Ianto snaps.

"That's no way to talk to your boss," Jack says, trying to defuse the anger starting to show in Ianto's voice.

"If you think that's all you are to me then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought." Ianto turns away, hands clenched into fists at his side.

Getting up is dizzying, but Jack walks the few steps to where Ianto has his back to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to know. "

"And that makes it okay, does it?" Ianto turns around fast, pushing Jack back against the wall.

"Ianto, I…"

"No, I came in and found you tied to a chair, unconscious, and shaking like you were having a fit." Ianto rests his forehead against Jack's, hands gripping tight at Jack's waist. "How could you do that to yourself?"

"Didn't think it would be that bad," Jack says, still feeling wrung out and shaky, he really hadn't expected it to be as bad as it had been. "Must have got the settings wrong or something."

"You really didn't know?" Ianto's grip relaxes, the brief burst of anger fast fading away.

Jack shakes his head, wondering how Ianto could think that he'd willingly put himself through something like that.

"Was it worth it?"

"I don't know." Everything is still a little jumbled up in his mind, and Jack's fairly sure that it'll take a few hours to reorder itself into anything that he's got a chance of making sense of.

Ianto looks conflicted for a moment, then says, "If you do decided to do it again, let me be there, let me help you."

"Not doing that again, believe me."

"When you didn't show up I waited, then I phoned you." Ianto looks slightly embarrassed. "When you didn't answer I thought maybe…"

"I'd left again?" Jack says quietly, wondering how many times has to tell Ianto that before he accepts it as true. "You know that I won't, not without telling you first."

"No. I mean I know." Ianto runs a hand distractedly through his hair. "I was worried somebody had taken you again. That you were hurt, and I wouldn't be able to find you." He sighs. "Stupid, right?"

"Not at all." It hadn't been what Jack had expected Ianto to say, but it makes sense.

They stand there, silence stretching out between them, until Ianto says, "Come home with me. You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Jack knows that spending the night together it is as much for Ianto's reassurance as it is for his own. Slipping a hand into one of the back pockets of Ianto's trousers, Jack says, "Now that's the best idea I've heard all day."

"I thought you'd say that." Ianto runs his fingers down Jack's braces.

Jack doesn't reply, he just pulls Ianto forward and kisses him, knowing that this is the distraction that they both want. There's little else he can do tonight except wait for the memories to start to resurface, and waiting alone holds little appeal. Jack just hopes that by morning he'll have some of the answers that he needs.


	5. Past Imperfect Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You're in no position to be asking questions Captain Harkness." A third eyelid blinks feline like across the man's dark yellow eyes. "That is the name you are using now, is it not?"

"You're in no position to be asking questions Captain Harkness." A third eyelid blinks feline like across the man's dark yellow eyes. "That is the name you are using now, is it not?"

"Yes." Jack licks dry lips, his head pounding.

"Well Captain." The man walks around the chair that Jack is tied to. "Either you can tell me voluntarily what you did with the Crown Prince of Narvar Cygnis Prime, or I can make you tell me. Now which will it be?" His tone is pleasant, even conversational, and is completely at odds with the coldness in his eyes and smile.

Jack stares at his captor, the name means absolutely nothing to him. "Who?"

"You can't fool or con me, Captain." He opens a metal case on a table that is set just out of reach of the chair. "I know you were there. You were seen, you took the boy. I just want to know what you did with him."

"Nothing." Sick fear coils in Jack's stomach. "I'm sorry if you lost him, if he mattered to you, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"Matter? Personally I don't care if Prince Gaetra is dead or alive. This is just business." He gets a syringe out of the case and then a bottle. "However, I have a reputation to uphold. I find people, information, and I'm good at it. The best."

"I doubt that."

"This should help loosen your tongue." The ropes binding Jack's arms to the chair are tight, and he can't move as the needle breaks the skin. "I'll be back in a few minutes,"

Dizzy, the drugs rapidly starting to take effect, Jack closes his eyes, head slumping forward.

Opening his eyes again, Jack sees the dim orange glow of the street light outside filtering in through the bedroom curtains. Naked, Ianto sleeps sprawled beside him, snoring quietly, the corners of his mouth occasionally twitching into a smile.

A dream. Jack rubs a hand across his eyes. No, he corrects himself, not a dream, a memory.

After staring up at the darkened ceiling, minutes slowly ticking by, Jack decides that going back to sleep isn't going to happen, and he gets out of bed. Not bothering to get dressed, Jack slips out of the bedroom without waking Ianto. Walking through the flat Jack picks up the notepad and pen that's next to the phone, before sitting down at the small table in Ianto's kitchen.

Jack is writing down the details of the memory, a precaution against forgetting it again, when Ianto, walks in.

"Bad dream?" Ianto asks, making sure that Jack has realised that he's there before slipping his arms around Jack's shoulders.

"Not exactly." Jack leans back against Ianto. "I'm starting to remember what happened."

"Anything useful?" Ianto asks, sounding as concerned as he does hopeful.

"I don't know." It's the truth, as while Jack now knows the reason why he was taken, he can't remember, or perhaps never knew, the person they wanted information about. Even the name of the planet hadn't been familiar.

"Do you think you'll remember anything else?" Ianto runs his hands down Jack's arms.

Jack sighs. He doesn't know, as all he's remembered so far raises more questions than it answers. "I hope so."

Silence stretches out between them, until Ianto asks,"Are you going back to the Hub?" Although by the tone of his voice it's clear that he doesn't want Jack to leave.

"Not tonight."

Ianto kisses side of Jack's neck. "In that case, lets go back to bed."

"Because I'm not telling them," Jack says to Ianto as they walk into the Hub, the cog door rolling shut behind them.

"And I still think you should," Ianto insists. "At least tell Owen, let him make sure the mind probe didn't do any damage. We don't exactly have a good track record with it, do we?"

"I said no," Jack snaps, feeling irritable despite the fact that he'd managed to get more sleep after going back to bed with Ianto. The problem is that no more memories have resurfaced, and Jack wonders if the little he has remembered is all that he's going to get; he hopes it's not. "I'm in charge here, and it's not up for debate."

"All right." Ianto doesn't look or sound happy about it. Turning away he says,"I'll go make us coffee then, isir/i."

Sir. Ianto never calls him sir these days, unless it's as a part of one of their shared fantasies, or he's annoyed with him but doesn't want it to be immediately obvious to anybody who might be listening.

Jack is still standing by the door looking at Ianto, and wondering why Ianto is so annoyed with him and how he can fix it, when Tosh notices him.

"Jack! I think you'd better come and see this."

"What you got for me?" Jack says enthusiastically, hurrying over to her, glad to have a distraction.

"The detection system is lighting up." Tosh pulls up an overlay of the energy spikes onto a map of Cardiff on her screen. The readings, complete with times, are scattered in an arc across the northern edge of Cardiff.

"It's not random." She points to locations where the teleporter has been used. "It's missing a few points, probably those locations are being covered by the other teleportation device, the one without there faulty shielding, but it's definitely following a search pattern."

Tosh presses a few more keys and the map zooms out to show south Wales, then another overlay appears on the screen, this time detailing a spiral search pattern. "The centre of the search is focused on the Bay, but it's spiralling inward from the outskirts of Cardiff."

"They're looking for me." Jack's eyes stay fixed on the screen, unable to look away. The search pattern is efficient given that there are probably only three individuals involved; the two men in jump suits and the man with the alien eyes that he'd remembered in his dream.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Tosh says, changing the view on screen back to just Cardiff. "I suppose I'd started to hope that they'd gone. That they'd decided to leave you alone."

"Don't be. They're going to be the ones who're sorry when I catch up with them," Jack says, already working out the best way to intercept the men searching for him.

Looking around the Hub, Jack sees Owen and Gwen who are talking to Ianto who's just started making coffee. "That's going to have to wait."

"This better be important," Owen grumbles.

Gwen gives Ianto a questioning look, which Ianto replies to with worried expression and a shake of his head.

As soon as they are all around Tosh's workstation, Jack says, "Toshiko I need you to coordinate from here, try to predict their next location. I want to know where they're going to be before they do." Jack turns to Gwen. "You're with me, We'll head out to Roath. Owen, Ianto, get over to Blackweir. From there we should be able to intercept them wherever they show up."

Then, without waiting to see if his team have heard him or even agree with his plan, Jack hurries down to the SUV, eager to be on his way now that finally he's going to get some answers.

"It's allowed to bother you, you know," Gwen says, as she gets into the front of SUV beside Jack.

"What?" Jack says distractedly. Revving the engine, he drives the SUV out of the garage, emerging onto the street with a blare of the horn to warn traffic to get out of his way.

"What happened to you." Gwen quickly fastens her seatbelt as the vehicle lurches as it clips the edge of the pavement.

"It doesn't," Jack says quickly, hoping that Gwen will let it drop.

"Right," Gwen says, clearly sounding like she doesn't believes him.

There's not time for any further conversation as they weave their way in and out of the traffic, the roads still busy at the tail end of morning rush hour.

They've almost reached Roath when Tosh's voice comes over the SUV's comm link. "They've teleported again. They're near the northern end of Albany Road. If they keep to their pattern you've got about ten minutes until they teleport again."

Breaking hard, and wrenching the steering wheel round, Jack pushes the SUV in to a sharp turn.

The sun dazzles off the rain wet road, and Jack blinks.

He's sitting in a chair, hands bound behind his back. Breathing hurts, and he fancies he can hear the creak of a broken rib as he drags air into his aching lungs. Sweat trickles down his face, the salt stinging his split lip.

In front of him, the device his interrogator holds crackles with electricity.

The handcuffs hurt his wrists as he struggles, although it's nothing compared sharp pain the movement sends through his injured ribs. But even that fades into insignificance as the device is held against him, and he screams.

"Bloody hell, Jack!"

Jack opens his eyes to see Gwen grab the steering wheel, just in time to stop them ploughing into the back of a bus.

Jack slams on the breaks, his legs feeling like rubber, as he brings the SUV to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street amidst the smell and sound of tyres being pushed to their limits. As soon as it has stopped Jack gets out as fast as he can, his hands, slick with cold sweat, slipping across the door handle.

Heart pounding, the memory of pain still fresh in his mind, Jack leans forward. Bracing his hands on against his knees, Jack drags in a slow, deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Jack?" Getting out of the SUV Gwen hurries round to him. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jack closes his eyes, trying to block out the still vivid feelings of helplessness, and the lingering memory of pain.

"You screamed and nearly drove us into the back of a bus," Gwen says sounding shaken. "How's that nothing?" She puts a hand on his arm. "You're shaking."

Jack doesn't reply, knowing that denying it would be pointless, but he grips his legs a little tighter hoping that it will make his hands look steadier. He can't even think of an appropriate quip to lighten the mood either; there's just nothing funny about nearly getting a friend hurt or worse.

Gwen looks around at the traffic jam starting to build up behind them, the cars unable to get past the SUV in the narrow street. "We've got to move."

"Yeah." Jack stands up slowly, still feeling a little disorientated. He knows he's wasted too much time, that the chances of them finding the men at the teleportation location gets slimmer with every minute that they delay.

Jack is about to get back into the drivers seat when Gwen puts her arm across the door. "Oh no, I'm driving," Gwen says, her tone letting Jack know that arguing isn't going to have any chance of changing her mind. "I'd like to get back in one piece."

"All right." It's frustrating, but Jack knows that Gwen is right; if he drives right now there's every chance that they'll end up round a lamppost or in the back of car. Jack nods, then, keeping a hand against the SUV makes his way round to the front passenger seat.

Getting in, Jack doesn't say anything else until Gwen turns the SUV left at the end of the street. "Last time I looked Albany Road was in the other direction."

"It is." Gwen keeps her eyes on the road as she switches the SUV's handsfree on. "Owen, it's Gwen, we're heading back to the Hub. Could you meet us there?"

"You got them then?" Owen asks. Then says quieter, as he's speaking to Ianto rather than into the phone, "See, I told you you're driving too slow. We should have taken my car."

"No. We nearly crashed," Gwen tells him, before adding quickly, "We're all right though. Well I am, I think there's something wrong with Jack."

Leaning over Jack switches off the handsfree. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to stop this before it gets out of hand."

"Out of hand?" Jack asks, incredulous.

"Yes, out of hand." Gwen stops the SUV at the traffic lights at the end of the street. "We can't just go charging in without a plan, Rhys getting shot made me realise that. Jack, if we keep doing this then one day we're going to go running in and we're not all going to come again."

"Sometimes we have to," Jack says wearily, hating the fact that in the end, however it happens, it will be his fault; it's the price of being in charge.

"But not this time," Gwen says firmly. "We don't know what they're armed with, or if they'll try to kill anyone who tries to stop them."

"Can't die, remember," Jack says, managing to make it sound almost cheerful, despite still feeling shaken from the flashback. The fact that now all he can think of is how there are so many things worse than dying isn't helping.

"That's not the point, if you go charging after them and freeze up again they could just take you away," Gwen says sounding more worried at the prospect of losing Jack than she had been when they'd nearly crashed. "All they need to do is grab hold of you, and teleport off. We might never see you again."

Jack shudders. It's involuntary, the feeling of helplessness rushing back. He remembers little about how he'd got away, but it's enough to know that it had been been dumb luck, just one of the many narrow escapes that he's pulled off over the years. It's certainly no guarantee that if he is captured again that he'll be able to manage it a second time.

"Jack?" Gwen asks, concerned. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," Jack says, glad that Gwen's looking at the road rather than him; he's not entirely sure he'd manage to convince her otherwise. "Lets get back to the Hub, pick up what we need and get back out here."

"Okay." Gwen doesn't sound like she is completely convinced, but doesn't push the matter further. Contacting Owen again, she says, "Hey, we just lost reception for a minute, nothing to worry about. We're on our way back, see you in soon."

Jack's hands have stopped shaking by the time they arrive back at the Hub, and the fear and helplessness he'd felt have shifted into anger. Anger at those who had taken him, anger at allowing himself it be so effected by a memory, anger at not being catch them and end this, and even anger at his team for taking control of the situation away from him. None of it is help by the fact that just before they had reached the Hub Tosh had contacted them to say that latest teleport location had broken out of the search pattern, and that she was unable now to predict the next location with any degree of accuracy.

Ianto and Owen are both waiting in the garage when they get out of the SUV.

"I'm fine," Jack says irritably, before they can ask him anything, and walks over to the steps which lead up to the Hub. "Now lets get to work."

The metal stair rail is cold under his hand.

Cold. So cold. They've taken his clothes, hosed him down with freezing water. The concrete floor he's lying on feels like ice, but he can't get up, his hands are cuffed behind his back. They're trying to break him, get him to confess. Confess? Confess what? Nothing makes sense. Everything hurts. Alone, forgotten, abandoned. Maybe it's punishment, maybe he deserves this for all the times he's failed, that he's going to fail. Hot tears filled with pain, frustration and loss well up, obscuring the bare room.

"Jack?"

Blinking, Jack looks up through tear blurred eyes at Owen's surprised face. "What happened?" Jack asks, hating that his voice isn't entirely steady.

"You just froze on the stairs, then fell over." Owen pushes a hand down against Jack's chest as he tries to sit up. "Not to fast."

"That's what happened in the SUV," Gwen says, worried. "That how we nearly crashed."

"It was nothing," Jack snaps, hating everything about his current situation. He can't help but think that if he hadn't been so stupid as to use the mind probe nothing would have happened in the SUV, they would have caught the men who had taken him by now and he'd be getting answers out of them.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but they need to know," Ianto says, not sounding happy about what he's about to do. Turning to Owen he says, "He used the mind probe on himself last night to try to find out what had happen."

Jack glares at Ianto, but says nothing, knowing that if the situation were reversed he do exactly the same. Pushing Owen's hand aside, Jack gets up, glad that this flashback isn't as disorientating as the one in the SUV had been.

"Jack," Gwen begins.

"This is not up for discussion," Jack says, determined not to have to explain or justify his actions. Not waiting for a reply, he leaves the garage and head up to his office.

Once in his office, Jack closes the door behind him, and sits down at his desk. It's only a temporary reprieve from the questions that his team will have; they've already followed him back up into the Hub.

Nearby, Jack can hear Owen and Ianto talking.

"I'm just saying, the other day he freaked out and punched you, then he used a bit of tech that had made an alien heads explode, and now he's nearly crashed the SUV."

"He's just got a lot on his mind," Ianto replies, defensively.

"I know that," Owen says sounding frustrated. "But if he ends up accidentally killing one of us it's not going to make him feel any better, is it?"

Sighing, Jack leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. Owen is right, and Jack knows that if any of them were to die because of him, he'd never forgive himself. It's hard enough knowing that every time he sends them out it could be the last time, and that chances are one day it really will be. It's their job though, and they know and accept the risks, but this, him putting them in unnecessary danger, shouldn't be part of it.

There's only one thing he can do, Jack decides; let somebody else be in charge until he gets it together again. It's not an easy decision, stepping back and letting others lead is something that Jack knows he's never been good at; he's too independent and has been let down too many times for that ever to be the case.

They'd managed without him when he'd been away, and if he's honest, they actually work better now as a team because of it. It doesn't make telling them that he's taking some time off any easier though.

He's about to leave the office and tell them when Ianto knocks on the door, then not waiting for a reply opens it. "There are reports coming in of a couple of weevils causing problems over by the new flats in Pontcanna," Ianto says, sounding like he's been volunteered by the rest of then to speak to him. "What do you want to do?"

"You, Owen and Gwen can handle it," Jack says, deciding he can always tell them later. "I've got work I can do here."

None of them look happy about it, but don't question him.

Once they have gone Jack opens the file containing the CCTV footage of his abduction, and sets on a loop on the screen in front of him, Jack hopes that it will be enough to bring the remaining missing memories to the surface.


	6. Past Imperfect Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Part 6**

**Part 6**

This is the part with the torture/interrogation scene in it, so you have been warned.

* * *

Post-it notes, each with a fragment of memory written on it are scattered across Jack's desk, their corners tattered from frequent reordering. Although from Jack's expression he's still less than happy with the current order of them.

"No luck then?" Ianto asks as he walks into the office, his coat over his arm.

"No. I must be missing something." Jack sighs and rubs his eyes. More fragments of memories have surfaced over the last couple of days, but there hasn't been anything that tells him what is going on. The fact that some of the memories are clearly not from the missing days, but from other, early parts of his life, parts that he wishes he could forget, hasn't helped.

"You need to take a break. There's been no sign of them for three days, that's the longest they've gone without using the teleport." Ianto sits down on the edge of the desk. "What if they've gone, Jack? You can't stay down here forever."

"You think I don't know that?" Jack snaps. The idea that they might have left and that he might never get the answers he wants scares him. But the thought that because he has failed to catch them that they could come back at any time, that they could just take him, torture him for answers that he can't possibly ever give, fills Jack with feeling of dread that he can't seem to shake.

"When did you last sleep?" Ianto asks, placing his hand over Jack's.

Jack looks down, not meeting Ianto's eyes. "I don't need to sleep, remember."

Sighing frustratedly, Ianto says, "Physically maybe. Mentally I'm sure it can't be good for you."

Jack doesn't answer. He knows that Ianto has a point, and that maybe if he sleeps he'll get some more memories back, but sleeping is difficult at the best of times, and right now he feels far too on edge for it even to be a possibility.

"If you're not going to rest then you need to get out for a while, maybe eat something that isn't take away," Ianto says, walking over to the coat stand in the corner of the office, and picking up the old tan coloured jacket that Jack has been using since the loss of his greatcoat. "I'm going to get some lunch, why don't come with me?"

Jack looks at the pile of dog-eared post-it notes, not wanting to admit defeat, but not sure what else he can do until he remembers something else.

"None of the places that they teleported into looking for you were crowded, and neither was the location where they took you from." Ianto hands Jack the coat, his fingers lingering over Jack's, trying to reassure him. "They were obviously trying not to be seen. So as long as we keep to places that are busy I think it's unlikely that they, if they're still here, will try anything."

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" Jack says. Things had been a little strained between them immediately after Ianto had told the team about his use the mind probe. But Jack knows that Ianto had only done it for the safety of the team, and for that reason, amongst others, he's already forgiven him.

"I'm trying to help." Ianto's hand closes over Jack's, his thumb rubbing along it's edge, as he adds quietly, "I don't know what else I can do."

"You help. This helps. " Dropping the jacket, Jack pulls Ianto closer to him. The kiss is brief, but still passionate. When it is finished, Jack rests his forehead against Ianto's, saying, "Don't ever forget that."

"I'll try not to." Ianto pulls back slowly and a little reluctantly.

Picking up the jacket that Jack has dropped, Ianto hands it back to him, saying, "As distracting as your kisses are, I've not forgotten about lunch."

"I should hope not. You can't promise a guy a hot date then leaving him hanging." Jack puts the coat on. It still feels strange not to be wearing his greatcoat, and he wonders if he should start to think about getting a replacement, or whether that would be admitting that he may never find out what had happened to him.

"This is not a date. Dates are things that happen outside of work." Ianto straightens the collar of Jack's coat, hands lingering. "So, barring the end of world happening this afternoon how about going out tonight? Gwen told me about a place over in Pennarth, a family run restaurant, don't usually need to book more than a couple of hours in advance."

"Sounds good," Jack says, finding that he is actually looking forward to going out, and not just because most of their dates end up with them in Ianto's bed. "I'll meet you at the lift, just got a couple of things I need to finish up."

"Don't take too long."

As soon as Ianto is out of his office Jack opens the desk drawer and takes out his Webley.

He knows that Ianto won't be keen on the idea of him carrying a gun to go to lunch, but he can't bring himself to leave it behind; it feels like tempting fate to do so.

The holster is too bulky to go unnoticed without the greatcoat to conceal it, and Jack slips the gun into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Stopping at the door to his office, Jack watches as Ianto walks over to Tosh's workstation.

"You've finished?" Ianto asks sounding impressed.

"Apart from a couple of shielding and battery-life tests." Tosh hands a mobile to him. "Are you and Jack going to be gone long?"

"We shouldn't be, we're just going to the coffee shop over on Mermaid Quay."

Tosh thinks for a moment and says, "That's the one that does the chocolate-ginger biscotti isn't it."

"Do you want me to bring you some back?"

"Would you?" Tosh asks, before adding. "I'm going to start work on Owen and Gwens' phones, and I've got the tracer program to update."

"Of course. Is there anything else you want?"

"No," Tosh says a little distractedly as she looks at the results of a program that she has been running. "Have fun."

"Anything I should know about?" Jack asks, looking at the phone, as Ianto walks over to him.

"Nothing urgent," Ianto says, putting the phone into his pocket. "I'll tell you at the cafe."

Despite Jack's reservations about leaving the Hub, they reach the coffee shop just off the Plas without incident.

The coffee shop is quiet, the lunch time rush having tailed off as mid afternoon approaches, and it's not difficult to find a table where they won't be overheard if they talk about Torchwood.

"So what was Toshiko doing with your phone?" Jack asks, when Ianto returns with their coffees.

"Installing a new tracking system." Ianto sits down. "There are a couple more tests to do, but if it works it could be very useful."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault you lost your last phone," Jack says, not sounding sorry in the least.

"That wasn't the only thing I lost on that _weevil hunt_." Ianto smiles back, a teasing look in his eyes. "I seem to remember I lost my tie, a sock and my underwear as well."

"You were the one who suggested going to the beach," Jack says, remembering an evening on what they'd both thought was a deserted stretch of sand dunes. "Surprised dog walkers and the tide coming in are all part of the fun."

Ianto blushes slightly and drinks his coffee.

After a few moments, Ianto's expression becomes serious again, and he says, "Recovering misplaced phones isn't the reason for the tracker."

"I know," Jack replies, feeling tired with everything that has been happening, wishing that he could at least have little bit of time where the conversation isn't connected to his disappearance.

"We wanted to be sure we had something that worked before telling you," Ianto says, sounding a little guilty for not telling Jack before. "The device Tosh is testing on my phone should work even if it's turned off or the battery is flat. It should be able to get through most types of signal scramblers and dampeners. We still need to test -"

Ianto is interrupted by the woman at the counter calling out that their food is ready.

"I'll let Tosh explain when we get back," Ianto says getting up to go and get the food from the counter.

By the time they are ready to leave the coffee shop the light drizzle that had been falling as they'd arrived has turned into a torrential downpour. Hesitating at the door, Jack looks out at the rain-soaked and almost completely deserted street outside. It feels unsettlingly reminiscent of the CCTV footage of when he was taken.

"We can wait if you want," Ianto says, seeing the apprehension on Jack's face.

"No." Jack shakes his head, worried, although he'd never admit it, that if he starts letting himself be controlled by his fears that he might never stop. "Come on. I want to see if Tosh has managed to get Owen to hand over his new phone."

"Tosh can be very persuasive," Ianto says, holding the door open for Jack.

"And Owen can be very stubborn."

"My money is still on Tosh."

Walking quickly through the rain, it doesn't take them long to reach the edge of the Plas.

Stopping at the door to the tourist information office, Ianto asks, "Do you still want me to book us a table for tonight?"

"How about eight o'clock?" Jack suggests, moving back to give Ianto room to open the door.

"I was thinking a little earlier, then we could-" Ianto stops mid-sentence. Then without a sound he crumples to the ground.

"No!" Jack looks wildly around, but there is nobody else in sight. Drawing his gun, Jack kneels down beside Ianto, to check for a pulse.

Jack finds it quickly, but there isn't time to do anything else as there's a brief flare of pain on the back of his neck, then the world seems to spin and tip sideways, before everything goes dark.

Jack wakes with a throbbing headache and realisation that his arms are raised over his head, held there by handcuffs and a metal chain that's looped over a beam high above him.

Tugging against the chains, the harsh metal of the cuffs scraping his wrists, Jack tries to gather his thoughts.

Two men, wearing the same black jumpsuits and visors from the CCTV footage, stand guard, one at each door to the derelict warehouse.

"I see you are awake."

Jack turns his head to see the interrogator from his fragmentary memories walk into the room. "Who are you?"

"We discussed this last time."

"Yeah, well my memory hasn't been so great lately," Jack says, trying to sound casual, although he can feel his heart beating faster, fear of what is to come setting in.

"Or so you would have me believe," he says, leaning forward slightly, his yellow cat-like eyes narrowing. "My name is Hamilton Tahl, as you well know. "

"The man who was with me, what-" Jack starts asks, trying to look round, although how he's chained makes seeing any more than half the warehouse difficult.

"Have I done with him? Nothing. He should be waking up soon," Hamilton replies before Jack can finish his question. "My business doesn't involve him, so the sooner you tell me what I wish to know, the sooner he can be on his way."

"And what do you want to know?" Jack asks, half hopeful that this will be the thing that finally triggers his missing memories, and half fearful of what will happen if it doesn't.

"What happened to Prince Gaetra after the fall of the Navarian Royal family, and his current whereabouts."

"Never heard of him." Which isn't completely true, as one of the fragments of memory had been Hamilton asking him the same question, but Jack doesn't think that that telling him that would be any help.

"Which is why I know you are lying." Hamilton gestures to one of his men, who brings a metal case over to him. "Because _I_ know you were there, I know you were the last person to be seen with him during the laser bombardment of the royal compound. So the question still stands, what did you do with him?"

"I don't remember."

"Or so you would have me believe. First it's 'I've never heard of him,' now it's 'I don't remember.' You should really get you're story straight." Hamilton places the metal case on the chair in front of him.

Changing the subject, he says, "There had been rumours that you'd been mixed up with a stolen Chula transport and some scheme involving nanogenes before you disappeared. Given the state of you just a few days ago to how you are now I think that rumour may very well be correct. This isn't the most medically advanced of planets after all."

Jack doesn't say anything. Experience has taught him not to reveal the fact that he doesn't stay dead to anybody unless he can help it, otherwise they tend to get creative where torture is concerned.

"My employers are getting anxious, time is money, and you are costing them a great deal of it." Hamilton removes a syringe and two bottles from the case, carefully placing them on the chair where Jack can see them. "They aren't patient people. New governments never are in my experience. But then I'm not a patient person either, Captain."

"You proved surprisingly resilient last time." Hamilton fills the syringe from the first bottle. "I think I shall have to be a little more creative in my approach."

Knowing that there is no chance to get away, Jack tenses as the needle breaks his skin. The cold rush of the drug into his veins hurts, and he can't suppress a groan of pain, as it takes effect.

The room seems suddenly hot and airless, the flickering bare bulb above him, too bright, and Jack closes his eyes, trying to fight the wave of dizziness that threaten to overwhelm him.

"Feeling it already?" Hamilton asks, sounding vaguely amused as Jack starts to shiver. "We're just getting started."

Jack doesn't bother to answer. Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he grits his teeth, trying to concentrate and fight off the effects of the drug.

It doesn't work. And a moment later Jack feels a second needle slide into the skin at the base of his neck.

"It doesn't have to get any worse than this," Hamilton says, almost sympathetically. "If you talk now you can save yourself a great deal of discomfort."

"There's nothing to tell." The room seems to blur and spin as Jack opens his eyes, hot and cold flashes racing through him.

Opening a different compartment in the case that had held the drugs the Hamilton removes a short, silvery metal rod. "There is always something to tell, captain."

Jack tenses his muscles, expecting a blow.

The blow doesn't come, and Hamilton presses the rod against Jack's stomach, the pressure only just enough for Jack to feel where it makes contact. For a moment nothing happens and then there's pain. Intense and all encompassing Jack screams, until Hamilton removes it.

Shaking and gasping, the muscles it had been pressed against still twitching and spasming painfully, Jack hangs weakly in the chains as Hamilton steps back.

"Fascinating piece of technology, doesn't you think?" Hamilton holds the rod up close to Jack's face. "It was developed as an exercise aide, it stimulates muscles and nerve endings. I've modified this one of course, but it still causes no permanent damage."

Jack blinks, Hamilton and the room around him seeming to blur in and out of focus, leaving him feeling sick and disorientated.

"I take no pleasure in doing this. All I want is answer." Hamilton says, as he runs the rod lightly down Jack's stomach. "Are you ready to talk?"

"There's nothing to tell. I don't know."

"Your loyalty is impressive." Hamilton starts to move the rod in a stroking motion. "If totally misplaced. You owe them nothing." His expression changes, curiosity showing for the first time. "Or do you? What hold do they have over you? You can tell me."

"I don't know them!" Memories of the Master asking him a similar question, trying to torture the location of his team out of him during the year that never was fill his mind, and for a moment all Jack can see and hear is the manic eyes and laugh of the man who'd been his tormentor for a year.

"You may have been able to convince yourself that is the truth, but I know differently," Hamilton admonishes. His tone is still pleasant as he adds, "You really only have yourself to blame for this."

Wave after wave of increasingly severe cramps follow in its wake, as Hamilton presses the rob harder against Jack with each stroke, until he is writhing in the chains unable to find any relief.

Jack is conscious just long enough feel the humiliation that the cramps have caused him to lose control of bodily functions, before Hamilton presses it hard against his spine and he blacks out.

A minute later, Jack gasps back to consciousness as a bucket of cold water is thrown over him by one of the guards.

Coughing and spluttering, his whole body cramping painfully, Jack fights for breath.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Hamilton puts a hand on Jack's shoulder, patting it. "I can make it stop. Just tell me where he is and all this goes away."

"I. Don't. Know." Shivering, nauseous and aching, Jack stresses every word, desperately hoping that Hamilton will believe him, or at least leave him alone for a while.

"Wrong answer." Hamilton picks up the rod again.

Jack knows that he's lost count of the number of times that Hamilton has asked him where the prince is, and how long the interrogation has been going on. Not caring about the ache in his arms and shoulders, Jack hangs limply in the chains, letting his mind drift, hoping that Tosh will realise that they've been gone for too long and will check the tracer program in Ianto's phone.

"All men break given time, Captain. I do not have time to waste though. I hadn't wished to resort to this, but you have given me little choice." Hamilton turns to one of the guards, saying, "Bring him in."

Turning back to Jack, Hamilton says, "You had quite the reputation when you were a Time Agent, or so my sources tell me. Ruthless, professional, except when it came to one thing: your men. You always seemed to care more for their well being than you ever did for your own." His yellow eyes are cold as he adds, "Shall we see if that still holds true?"

A moment later, the two jump-suited men return with Ianto struggling between them, looking very annoyed, but otherwise unharmed.

Seeing Jack, his expression turns furious. Kicking one of the guards hard in the knee, Ianto twists round until the man is forced to release him.

Ianto only gets a few steps towards Jack before Hamilton draws a gun, and aims it at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The guards take the opportunity to grab Ianto again. Dragging him over to a chair they, push him down onto it, before tying his wrists to its arms.

Hamilton walks slowly around Ianto, his yellow eyes cold and calculating, as he pulls a gag over Ianto's mouth.

"Don't you touch him," Jack says, the scene in front of him stirring up unpleasant memories. Ones of Jack's childhood friend who'd followed him to off war and had been tortured and killed while he been forced to watch, helpless to stop it.

"You can stop this at any time," Hamilton says, his tone pleasant, even friendly. "All you need to do is tell the truth."

"I've told you the truth!" Jack starts to struggle against the chains again.

Hamilton shakes his head, and turns back to Ianto.

"Such nice fingers." Hamilton strokes them. "So straight and smooth." His hand tighten into a fist around one of Ianto's fingers, before he pulls it back sharply, until with an audible crack, it breaks.

The gag chokes back the scream, leaving Ianto pale and shaking, staring at Jack with shocked, pain filled eyes.

Hamilton is still smiling faintly as he turns to Jack. "Now, Captain, are you going to give me the information I want or do I need to continue?"

"Leave him alone!" Jack yells, struggling against restraints, the metal cuffs chaffing his wrists, until blood runs down his arm. "He doesn't know anything. I don't know anything. I don't remember."

"Wrong answer." Hamilton takes hold of another of Ianto's fingers, and Ianto closes his eyes. There is no scream this time as the finger breaks, just a muffled groan as Ianto bites the gag.

Hamilton breaks two more fingers, only turning back to Jack once Ianto has passed out from the pain.

"I very much doubt he has the ability to heal as quickly as you do," Hamilton says, watching Jack intently. "I can make his life very short and very unpleasant one, and you will have to watch, unless you talk."

"I don't remember," Jack slurs, the room is blurring in and out of focus as he fights to keep conscious, everything around him feeling like it's fading away. "You knew I was with them. Time Agency, they took it. Took it all. All my memories. I did something, I must have, something wrong, I don't know. "

"Perhaps we're finally getting somewhere." Hamilton smiles, predatory and triumphant. Picking up the metal rod, he spins it slowly through his fingers, as he approaches.

"I don't know, it's the truth," Jack manages between gasping sobs for breath as Hamilton presses the baton to his back again, sending agonising shock waves up his spine.

"Either you are the best actor I've met, or you're telling the truth." Hamilton walks slowly around Jack, before leaning in close to his ear. "Which is it?"

"The truth. Not lying, I promise, I don't know." Jack hangs his head, his voice is choked with tears, he can't hold them back any longer. Between the drugs, and the mental and physical pain, there's no resistance left in him.

"Let him go. Please, just let him go." Jack looks across at where Ianto sits, still tied to a chair, face ghostly pale in the dimly lit warehouse. "I'll do what you want. Anything you want."

"I do believe you would." There is a faint smile on the Hamilton's lips as he walks over to Ianto and unties his wrists. "He'll live Captain, he's young, strong." He strokes Ianto's hair. "One day he may even thank me for this. After all, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."

Hamilton turns to one of the guards, saying, "Take him away, leave him near their base."

Once the guard and Ianto are gone, Hamilton draws his gun and walks back over to Jack. "You might not believe this Captain, but I actually feel sorry for you."

He sounds amused as he releases the chain and watches as Jack falls to his knees. "It must be a terrible thing to die, not knowing what it's for, yet still being aware that it is all for nothing." He releases the safety catch on the gun.

There's no possibility of getting away, and Jack closes his eyes.

There's a deep, rumbling growl of a large engine being revved outside, and a moment later the front of the SUV bursts through the doors of the warehouse.

The surprise intrusion throws of Hamilton's aim, the bullet striking Jack in the stomach rather than the chest.

A moment later Gwen and Owen get out of the SUV, guns drawn.

Hamilton turns towards them, annoyance clear on his otherwise impassive face, and raises his gun.

He doesn't get a chance to shoot, as Gwen's bullet hits him high in the chest. Hamilton staggers for a moment then collapses to the ground, his gun falling from his lifeless fingers.

Although obviously shaken by what she's just done, Gwen turns and points her gun at the Hamilton's henchman who's just about to draw his own weapon, "Don't even think about it."

Glancing over at Owen, she says, "You see to Jack, I've got this."

Taking one quick look towards where Gwen has got the guard to kneel on the floor, his hands on his head, Owen hurries over to Jack.

"Shit." Owen swears, then kneels down next to him, trying to access the extent of his injuries. "Jack, hold on."

Everything seems to be happening through a pain-filled fog, and Jack groans as

Owen presses down on the wound, trying to staunch the blood flow.

"Stop. Find Ianto." Jack's hands scrabble uselessly at Owen's arms, trying to push him away. "He's hurt, my fault. Find him."

"We got him, he's with Tosh," Owen reassures him, carefully pushing Jack's hands away. "He's going to be alright."

Relief seems to block out everything else just for a moment, and Jack manages the ghost of a smile, before the pain returns.

Realising that keeping pressure on the wound isn't helping, and that all he's doing is prolonging Jack's pain for a few more minutes rather than giving him time to heal, Owen moves his hand.

Everything seems cold and distant, except Owen's hand with his is now holding his own. Too cold and exhausted to fight any more, Jack closes his eyes.

"You better bloody well come back," Owen says as he holds Jack's hand tight, until Jack's pained and erratic breathing slows and then stops.


	7. Past Imperfect Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life and consciousness return in one painful, ragged breath.

Life and consciousness return in one painful, ragged breath.

Heart pounding as he gulps in lungfuls of air, Jack sits up. Looking around, he recognises where he is as one of the seldom used recovery rooms just off the main area of the Hub. Rooms which had been added during the renovations that had happened in is absence, after Gwen had insisted that treating people on an autopsy table did little to reassure them that they weren't about to die.

Given how often team members tend to get injured, Jack wonders why nobody else every thought of it before; it just seems like common sense.

Getting out of bed, Jack can feel the lingering ache from where Hamilton's bullet had struck, and the residual fuzziness left by the drugs that haven't quite dissipated from his blood stream.

Standing with one hand braced against the wall, he feels unsteady of his feet. He stays there for a moment before deciding that he needs a little longer before he can confidently make his way through the Hub without falling over.

Sitting back down, he tries to take stock of the situation. He's aware that he's been stripped, washed and redressed in underwear and a t-shirt. All the physical evidence of the torture he'd suffered removed.

He's still sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to get some level of composure before going in search of some clothes, when Gwen comes in carrying his boots, a shirt and trousers.

"Thanks, you didn't have to," Jack says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, He doesn't usually have any hang-ups about people having seeing him naked – knows he's got a good body and he's not shy about it. But there's one hell of a difference between knowing a friend has seen you nude, and that same friend having had to clean and redress your naked corpse.

"It was Owen," Gwen says, seeing Jack's expression and trying to reassure him. "I was making sure our prisoner wasn't going anywhere."

It doesn't really help that it was Owen, because Jack has always seen him as friend first and a doctor second. He chooses to hide behind a smile though, and says, "Well you missed a chance there."

A slightly awkward moment follows as it's obvious that Gwen doesn't believe, or even particularly appreciate, his forced attempt at levity.

"How long was I out?" Jack asks, taking the clothes from her.

"About two hours." Gwen sits down on the bed next to him as he starts to get dressed.

Jack nods. It's about the length of time he'd expected. He knows that his team will have dealt with Hamilton's body, and have secured his two henchmen. And trusts that Owen was telling him the truth about Ianto back at the warehouse, but he knows all too well that alive and alright are two different things. Prompting the question, "How's Ianto?"

"He'll be okay." Gwen gives him a reassuring smile. "Owen knows what he's doing."

"I know he does. But that wasn't what I was asking." Jack pauses, shirt half buttoned.

Gwen picks at the edge of the covers on the bed, trying to distract herself. "He blames himself. He's thinks you must do too, you wouldn't have been taken if he hadn't persuaded you to go out for lunch."

"It's not his fault," Jack says wondering how Ianto can think he's to blame himself for any of this. Feeling exhausted with everything that has happened he rubs a hand across his face, and sighs. "It's my past that caused this, I'm the one to blame."

"I know it's not, I've told him that. But it's not your fault either, so don't you start," Gwen says irritably, giving him an exasperated look.

It's not the sort of reaction that he's come to expect from Gwen, but given everything that has happened today he can understand why she might be on edge; killing, Jack is sure, even when there isn't really another choice will never come easy to Gwen.

"You didn't have a choice, Hamilton would have shot you without a second thought. You made the right call." Jack starts to put an arm around Gwen's shoulders.

"It's not that." Gwen gets up, moving away from him.

"There's something though." Jack follows her.

"That's just it, Jack, there isn't." Gwen turns to face him. "I killed somebody a couple of hours ago and I don't feel a thing."

"Nobody gets that worked up over feeling nothing, believe me," Jack says, pushing for the truth. In the past he knows he wouldn't have done, he'd have let it go, but secrets like that had nearly torn his team apart in the past and he's not about to let that happen again if there is anything he can do about it.

"But I don't."

"Gwen."

"Fine, you want the truth. I'm glad I shot him." There's real anger in Gwen's eyes at being pushed to reveal this. "What he did to you, to Ianto, he deserved it."

"And you think you should feel something, that you should be horrified by this, right?"

"Yes."

"You still might." Jack looks at her feeling ancient. He wonders if the Doctor ever feels the same way about the people he travels with, if it only gets worse the older you get and the more you see. "It's only been a couple of hours, things like this they don't always hit you straight away."

Gwen nods, still looking troubled. "I just don't want to stop caring. I don't want to be like that."

"You won't. It's not you." Putting an arm around her shoulders he gives her a quick hug, then says, "Now come on, I want to go tell Tosh she's brilliant, Owen that he'd not going to have to buy his own drinks for a while, and Ianto that I could never hate him."

oxoxoxo

"Brilliant and beautiful," Jack says loudly as he walks over to Tosh who's working on a fast scrolling stream of data on her workstation monitor.

"Not that brilliant, it took me hours to find you," Tosh says, looking down at her keyboard. "I should have been able to compensate for the signal dampening field that they were using faster.

"But you did find us." Jack turns her seat round. "You didn't give up, and you know what? That means a lot to me." Knowing that Tosh will be more comfortable talking about technology Jack asks, "So do you think you'll be able to get the tracker fitted in all our phones?"

"Now that I know how to compensate for signal scrambling and dampening device I should be able to design a better one."

"If I bring Rhys' phone in, could you put it in that too?" Gwen asks, looking hopeful. "It's not that I don't trust him, it's just since him got shot I worry what could happen to him."

"I should be able to," Tosh reassures her. "What type of phone has he got?"

Leaving Gwen talking to Tosh, Jack goes to find Owen and Ianto.

Standing at the top of the steps down to the autopsy bay, Jack watches Owen and Ianto for a moment, trying to gauge how Ianto really is before he tries to tell him he's fine.

Ianto is sat on the edge of the table, while Owen finishes taping his fingers.

"Are you sure that's tight enough, you can still move them," Ianto asks as Owen carefully moves his numbed fingers.

Owen gives him an irritated look. "Yes it's tight enough. They were dislocated not broken. So you don't want to keep them complete immobile or they'll lock up, and it'll be harder to get them working again."

Ianto doesn't look convinced. "If they drop off I'm blaming you."

Leaning against the railing, Jack sighs. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on Ianto's cheek, and marks around his wrists where he'd been tied to the chair standing out lividly against his pale skin where the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up.

It's not many weeks since there'd been similar makes left from the ropes Ianto been bound with by the men keeping the space whale captive. It had been an experience that Jack knows shook Ianto more than he's ever likely to admit.

Ianto looks round at the noise, his expression becoming guarded, before he hangs his head. "Jack. I'm sorry."

"Hey, this it's not you fault," Jack says, hurrying down the steps to stop in front of him. Lifting Ianto's chin, Jack look him in the eye. "None of it. I mean it."

"But-"

Jack curls a hand carefully around the back of Ianto's neck, then kisses him. Pulling back slightly, Jack says, "Now, no more blaming yourself."

Ianto nods, looking a little bit stunned that Jack has kissed him in front of Owen.

Jack knows that they, mostly at Ianto's insistence, have agreed to keep as much of their relationship as they can separate from work. Today is a special case though, and from the small, slightly dopey smile that's now on Ianto's face, Jack is pretty sure that he agrees.

The smile disappears as Ianto yawns, eyes closing for a moment.

"You want me to drive you home so you can get some rest?" Jack asks, knowing that between what had happened with Hamilton and the painkillers Owen will have given him to realign his fingers, Ianto must be exhausted.

"He's not going home on his own, and he's not climbing down into that pit of bedroom of yours," Owen says firmly, sounding like he's decided that they are both being idiots about this. "He is staying here for the night. He use the room we put you in earlier. And you aren't driving anywhere until I know we're not going to get a repeat of what happened with the SUV."

Ianto doesn't look happy, but says, "Anywhere with a bed will do, I would have preferred it to be mine though."

"I know." Jack puts a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "I prefer your bed-"

"Jack!" Gwen calls down from the doorway to the autopsy bay. "I'm going to see if I can get more information out of Hamilton's guard. Are you coming?"

"Not yet," Jack says quickly. Although he wants some answers, Ianto is more important right now. Hamilton's henchman can sit and worry about what's going to happen to him for a few more hours for all Jack cares.

"You should go," Ianto says quietly, shrugging Jack's hand off his shoulder.

"I'll talk to him later, he can wait."

"No, you need to do this," Ianto says sounding a little shaky as he gets off the table. "You need this to be over."

And so do you, Jack thinks, as he realises that Ianto isn't trying to be selfless about this. "Okay, but don't think you're getting rid of me that easily."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you," Ianto says wearily, moving towards the steps up to the main part of the Hub. "I can get to bed by myself. It's my hands that are hurt, not my legs."

Jack is about to point out that unless he's worked out how to unbutton his shirt with his feet he'll need some help, when Tosh, who's now standing next to Gwen at the top of the stairs, says, "Do you mind if I walk with you? I can tell you what I'm going to do to our phones."

Ianto looks like he's going to object for a moment then says, "Alright,"

Once Ianto as slowly started up the steps, Jack gives Tosh a relieved smile, grateful that she knows how to deal with Ianto when he'd being unrealistically about what he can do.

Jack listens for a moment, waiting for Ianto and Tosh to leave, before turning back to Owen, asking, "How is he?"

"Few bumps and bruises. Fingers aren't as bad as it could have been," Owen says as he starts to tidy away the kit he's used to treat Ianto's fingers. "One broken, three dislocated. He'll be sore for a while, but they went back in place okay. Telling him he should start moving them as soon as he can so they don't lock up. He'll listen to you. Probably should be grateful that the bastard pulled his fingers back rather than smashed than with a hammer."

Jack swallows hard, feeling sick, bile bitter in his throat at the thought of what Hamilton could have done, what he could have been forced to watch.

"You should probably take it easy for a while as well." Owen blocks Jack's way. "You wouldn't have had time to metabolise all the stuff the Hamilton gave you before he shot you."

"I'll live." Jack puts his hand on Owen's shoulder, grateful for all that Owen has done for him and Ianto since the all of this began.

0x0x0x0x0

"Do we know anything about him?" Jack asks, as he and Gwen walk down to the cells.

"Only what he said when we caught him, that his name is Kovan, and he's a mercenary hired by Hamilton to provide backup and do the fetching and carrying."

As they enter the cells Kovan gets up from the low stone bench, and then kneels in front of the perspex door, his hands on his head.

"Get up," Jack says tersely. "I'm not here to kill you."

Kovan doesn't move, staring at Jack, his expression wary.

"I want some answers, or I might just change my mind."

"What is there to say? It was a job. I got caught," Kovan answers, sounding resigned to his fate.

"Is that all you've got to say for yourself?"

"What else is there? I'm a mercenary and this seemed like easy money." He looks steadily at Jack. "Safe money. And when your family is counting on you coming home with enough cash to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table then it's all that counts. I played the odds and I lost."

"You've got a family?" Gwen looks at him surprised.

"A little sister, and my partner." There's a look of loss and regret in Kovan's eyes as he looks at Gwen. "You think we're all monsters, don't you? Just because we aren't human."

Kovan looks human, although Jack knows that he's not, Sto or one of it's colony planets would be his best guess, as to the man's origins.

"No," Gwen replies, offended that he could think that. "I think anybody who's happy to torture for money is a monster."

The conviction in Gwen's voice makes Jack feel uncomfortable, knowing that in the past he'd been no better than Kovan, that given the right circumstances he could be like that again. He's not sure whether the fact that Gwen would probably forgive him for it if she ever found out makes him more uncomfortable or less.

Not wanting the conversation to end up about relative moral values, especially when he knows that he hasn't the high ground on the subject, Jack asks, "What would you have done if my team hadn't arrived?"

"Your friend would have been dropped off where we took you from, then we'd have weighted your body with rocks and then dumped it in the sea," Kovan says honestly.

Jack shudders. He knows that it shouldn't shock him; he's done far worse than that in the past himself, but the thought of reviving only to drown over and over again with no means of escape is terrifying.

Keeping his tone neutral Jack asks, "And Hamilton?"

"He'd have teleported us back to the ship that he'd left in orbit, then we'd have gone to drop of the intel and get paid. After that we'd have gone our separate ways. Job done."

Jack thinks for a moment. Hamilton had been fairly insistent that his employers were desperate for this information. Not wanting to risk the possibility that they might send somebody to check up on Hamilton or complete his mission Jack asks, "If you deliver the intel and collect the bounty in Hamilton's place will that mean nobody come after me and my team?"

"Should do." Kovan stands up. "I can tell them you're dead if you want. It's all the same to me."

"You do that." Jack opens the door to the cell, and motions to Kovan to leave. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Placing his hands on his head Kovan walks out of the cell.

"Are you really going to just let him go? After what he did," Gwen asks as they leave the cells.

"Yeah. I want him gone," Jack says flatly, determined that there will be no argument about this.

Gwen doesn't look entirely happy or convinced by Jack's decision, but she doesn't say anything.

As they reach the main area of the Hub, Kovan asks, "I'll need the interrogation footage. That won't be a problem, will it?"

"What footage?" Jack snaps, grabbing hold of Kovan's shoulder, spinning him round, and pinning him to the wall.

"Hamilton always filmed his interrogations. Proof for his clients." There's fear in Kovan's voice that hadn't been present in the cell as Jack rests an arm against his throat. "He filmed everything, said it was the best training tool. I just want it for proof to collect the bounty, please it's not my fault."

Releasing Kovan, Jack says angrily, "You can have it."

"You can make a copy if you want, or watch it before I go, if you want." Kovan rubs his throat, still looking wary. "Make sure that there's nothing on it that you don't want me taking back."

The idea of watching it, reliving his and Ianto's torture sickens him, and Jack closes his eyes. Objectively, he knows he probably should, just in case Hamilton had managed to get any useful information about his missing memories from him.

Opening his eyes, Jack shakes his head. "I think this is one time where I'm probably better of not knowing."

"For what it's worth," Kovan says, as they start moving again. "I was pretty sure you had no idea of about any of the stuff Hamilton was asking you. People break, or make mistakes with their story, and you weren't, even when you should have been."

Jack doesn't reply, he knows enough about torture to know that Hamilton knew all this too. The only reason that Hamilton would have continued as long as he had was either that it was for show, to impress him employers or, more likely, Jack thinks, that he was just a sadistic bastard.

"Gwen, fetch the recording device, I don't want him here any long than I have to."

"You're lucky he's in charge," Gwen says to Kovan, before going over to Jack's office.

Stopping next to Tosh's workstation Jack keeps his gun pointed at Kovan as he says, "Toshiko, our not so welcome guest here says there's a ship in orbit, is he telling the truth?"

"Yes." Scrolling through several displays very quickly, Tosh enlarges the section of space on the screen to display a small ship in geosynchronous orbit. "It's pretending to be an inoperative satellite, but if you know what to look for you can tell the energy signature is wrong."

"Looks like it's your lucky day," Jack says to Kovan with fake cheerfulness, as Gwen returns with the recording device.

Taking it from Gwen with a smile, Jack shoves the device down the front of Kovan's jumpsuit. "What else do you need to go?"

"Just my teleport. I've got the ships coordinated logged on it." Kovan keeps his hands on his head, not even attempting to

Picking up the teleport device from where it's been left on Tosh's workstation, Jack feel a pang of regret that he's having to let it go; it would have been nice to have a teleport that worked for a change. He hopes that the one that had the crack in the temporal shielding can be repaired or that Hamilton had one that works.

Clipping the device back onto Kovan's jumpsuit, Jack nods in the direction of the invisible lift. "Come on."

Gun still drawn and pointed at Kovan, Jack walks a couple of steps behind him until he gets on the lift.

"Track his ship, I want to know he's gone," Jack calls back to Tosh as the lift starts to rise.

"I'll be glad to see the back of this place," Kovan says, looking round at the Millennium Centre, as the lift stops on the Plas.

"If I ever see you in Cardiff again," Jack says, his voice low and dangerous, "and it'll be a very short visit. Now go."

Kovan nods slowly, before carefully lowering one of his hands and activating the teleport.

There is the familiar blueish shimmer of light and then Kovan is gone.

Taking one last look around the Plas, the evening sunlight reflecting gold off the rain soaked sandstone of the paving, Jack lets out a slow breath, trying to reassure himself that he's done the right thing.

"Is he on board?" Jack calls down once the lift has started to descend.

"There was an energy fluctuation on the ship," Tosh confirms. "The ship is breaking orbit. He's leaving."

"It's over." Jack smiles tightly, knowing that this is as much convincing himself that it really is over as it's about giving his team some much needed down time. "You've done good work today. Now go home. Talk to friends, family. Remember why we do this."

Owen and Tosh exchange glances, but don't question him; they've seen Jack do this too often to do otherwise.

It doesn't taken them long to finish up what they are doing and leave. Gwen following them a few minutes later.

"Jack." Gwen turns back as she reaches the cog door. "Remember to take your own advice on this, don't be alone tonight, go and to talk to Ianto."

0x0x0x0x0x0

In his office, Jack finds his greatcoat neatly folded on his desk, his vortex manipulator, watch and Webley placed neatly on top of it.

Picking up the vortex manipulator, Jack runs his fingers along the worn leather almost reverently.

He can feel his fingers shaking as he buckles the familiar strap about his wrist. Too many bad things have happened to him when he's not been wearing it for him to feel comfortable without it.

Hanging his greatcoat on the stand in the corner of his office, Jack is tempted to put the Webley back on his belt, knowing that the weight of it, and the protection that it represents, will help reassure him that everything is back as it should be.

He doesn't though, that would be too much like admitting that he still doesn't feel safe yet, not completely. He knows it might take him a little longer this way, but he's sure that not relying on it is for the best, and Jack places the guns and it's holster in his desk drawer.

Deciding that the reports and paperwork can wait until tomorrow, Jack checks and then double checks all the Hub's monitoring systems, before he eventually switches them all to automatic for the night. Anything short of a full blown alien invasion is going to have to wait until morning – and even then he knows that he'd be tempted to call up UNIT and tell them to deal with for a change.

After picking up a couple of bottles of water, and the painkillers Owen has left out for Ianto, Jack goes to find Ianto.

It's both a relief and a disappointment that Ianto is asleep when Jack finds him, because while he knows that Ianto needs to rest, he really doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now.

Weary from everything that has happened, the anger and adrenaline that he's been running on fading now that it's over, Jack sits down in the chair by Ianto's bed.

Deciding that he'll stay for a few minutes to see if Ianto wakes up and wants anything, Jack leans back on the chair and closes his eyes.

He's running, boots loud on polished quartzite floors. The alien child in his arms is crying, while the heavy laser rifle that is slung over his shoulder hits the backs of his legs as he hurries down the steps leading out of the building.

 _The air outside the royal compound is scorched, thick with the scent of ozone from the laser bombardment, the shielding over complex long since overloaded and shot away._

 _A blast hits a column near the door and a chip of stone slices passed his leg. He stumbles, but keeps going, knowing that the shuttle is just the other side of the trees._

 _A woman, her blue feathers tinged with soot, is waiting at the shuttle, and the child stops crying and smiles as he hands him to her._

 _The ground shakes as a bomb blast rocks the compound, and he falls._

"Jack?"

Opening his eyes, Jack looks up from where he's fallen off the chair to see Ianto staring down at him, a concerned expression on his face.

"Sorry." Jack gets to his feet, feeling shaken. He really hadn't expected to get any more flashes of memory. "I didn't mean to wake you. I should let you sleep."

"Stay, please." There's a hint of vulnerability in Ianto's voice for the first time since what happened with Hamilton. "I don't think either of us want to be alone right now."

Jack nods, then sits down on the edge of Ianto's bed, trying to gather his thoughts. Compared to the previous flashes of memory that he's had this one had been almost pleasant. It's significance is so much more though, it's the first memory that he knows with absolutely certainty is from his missing years. Memories that for more than century and a half he's been convinced were lost to him forever.

That these particular memories, ones that Hamilton had been willing to torture him to death for, have chosen to resurface now that it doesn't matter seem bitterly ironic. It feels like the story of his life. A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob escape him, and Jack wraps his arms about himself as he starts of shake. Tears that he's not permitted himself since this whole nightmare begun start to fall unchecked.

Carefully, trying to avoid jarring his fingers, Ianto puts his arms around Jack, letting him lean against his shoulder.

"Really failing the whole dashing hero thing today, aren't I?" Jack says, sounding a little shaky.

"Not to me." Ianto's voice is hoarse, and when Jack looks he can see unshed tears bright in Ianto's eyes. "Not for this."

"It's over. It's okay." Jack puts his arm around Ianto, giving the same comfort that he'd provided, holding close him when his tears start to fall. "It's really over."

"Any better?" Jack asks once Ianto's shoulders have stopped shaking.

"A little." Ianto tries to wipe his eyes, but stops with a small hiss of pain as the movement jars his fingers.

"It's a start," Jack says, knowing that it's going to be hard for Ianto to begin putting it behind him while he's still in pain.

Cupping Ianto's face in his hands, Jack brushes away the tears with his thumbs, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Leaning his forehead against Ianto's Jack says, "You should get some more sleep."

"I'd sleep better with company," Ianto says, sounding a little uncertain as to whether he should be asking Jack to stay with him.

"Now that's my kind of idea," Jack says with a laugh. He knows that they won't be doing anything other than sleeping tonight, and it'll probably be like that for quite a few nights to come.

Grateful that the bed is big enough for them both to sleep in, Jack strips down to just t-shirt and underwear before getting in beside Ianto.

"What happened with the guard?" Ianto asks once Jack has got comfortable.

"Gone."

"Good." Ianto settles back against Jack's arm, head resting on his shoulder.

"No questions?"

"None that matter tonight," Ianto says with a small smile. "Not if you're staying."

"I'm staying."

Ianto makes a contented noise and closes his eyes.

Jack smiles. He knows that there are never any nice, neat endings, and that tomorrow life will continue with all its major and minor triumphs and loses. For now though the danger is over, and they can enjoy a moment of peace together.

* * *

Thank you to everybody who's be reading and/or commenting on this fic, and sorry that it has taken so long to finally finish.


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